


Sunglasses and Top Hats

by Mrs_Dark_Knight



Series: Sunglasses and Tophats [1]
Category: Guns N' Roses, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Older Slash, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Dark_Knight/pseuds/Mrs_Dark_Knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duff forces Axl to join a dating site to help him get over his recent breakup. He meets a mysterious stranger who gives him the adventure he's been yearning for, but when his dark past comes knocking he's forced to return to Lafayette and face it head on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Hell no!”

“Axl, will you shut the fuck up and make the damn profile?” Axl groaned as he clicked the ‘create profile’ feature on the website. Jabbing at the mouse pad bitterly, the redhead threw an annoyed look at the blonde next to him. “What now?”

Duff rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, injecting as much sarcasm as he could muster into his voice, “Oh, I don’t know Axl, how about you fill out the required fields and wait till you get a hit, _then_ you get yourself a hot date and stop moping around the damn apartment looking like a kicked puppy.”

“I most certainly do not mope! And fuck, I don’t look like a puppy!” the redhead mumbled, trying to split his attention between typing and glaring at his flat mate. The sentence sounded unconvincing even to him, it was a blatant lie and they both knew it. Since his messy breakup with Jeffery two months ago, he spent his free time getting shit-faced, high or on really bad days, both.

Duff snorted, hovering behind the redhead to get a clear view of what he was doing. “Dude, don’t use _that_ picture. Just... gimmie.” he plopped on the couch, knocked Axl’s hands away from the laptop and pulled it unto his lap, “Clearly you suck at this, so I’ll take over.”

Sighing, Axl watched as Duff’s hands flew over the keys confidently. Well, if he wanted to do all the work, so be it. He headed to the kitchen for a cold beer; the summer heat seemed to be a living thing, not as suffocating when he was in motion but closing insistently around him as soon as he stood still. The faulty AC was doing a bang up job of circulating the humid air in the apartment, rattling away noisily in the corner. Axl leveled a glare at the piece of machinery for good measure, it didn’t do shit, but it sure was satisfying. The liquid sliding down his throat cooled him down a bit, and he smiled sardonically as he glanced around the cluttered apartment- so this was his life now huh? Twenty-one and strung out.

He had dropped out of high school at the ripe age of 17 to help put food on his family’s table, take care of his siblings where their drugged-up “parents” failed them, bore the brunt of the incessant beatings and abuse until he could take it no longer; knew very well that he had to get outta that place before he was carried out in a body bag. Scared and desperate, he ran off to LA with his best friend and lover, only to be dumped when his fucked up head proved too much for even Jeff to handle. A wave of sadness rose up inside him- he tamped it down viciously, self-pity really wasn’t something he indulged in.

“Done,” Duff’s cheerful voice dragged him out of his reverie, the blond bounded excitedly into the kitchen, “Now, we wait for the hot chicks to latch on.”

He took one look at Axl’s pallid face and his cheerful tone morphed into one of concern, “Something wrong?”

Sighing, the redhead tossed his now empty beer can into the almost full trash can; they needed to take care of that soon. “No. Just thinking.”

Duff nodded knowingly, not pushing the subject, Axl sometimes wondered what he had done to deserved a friend like him, and often came up with a blank.

“Well then, while we wait for the inevitable flood of messages,” he winked saucily, “why don’t you cook us dinner?”

“Is this you trying to flatter me, asshole?” Axl retorted, poking the blonde’s side playfully.  In the year that they’ve been living together, they had always interacted like this- flirting and bantering like an old couple.

“Wives shouldn’t talk back.” He deadpanned; his comical frown wavering until his face split into a bright grin. Their laughter rang out, bouncing off the walls and raising Axl’s spirits. He could worry about his shit-pile of a life later.

“What would you like?” Axl asked, as their laughter finally faded away, peering into the almost-empty cupboard, “we have the impressive choice of ramen, ramen, or ramen.”

“Ahh fuck, I didn’t pick up the groceries-”

“No, it was my turn; it’s just that I...” _Spent it all on booze and whores_ hadn’t been added, but it hung heavily in the air. A stab of guilt went through Axl, he could barely manage to keep a fucking job because of his not-too-great temperament and punctuality, but the recent funk he’d worked himself into was proving to be very taxing on his meager funds.  The silence stretched between them, it seemed to weigh down unbearably on Axl.

“So... can we have ramen, ramen _and_ ramen? ‘cause I’m fucking starving.”

The redhead erupted into giggles, relieved the atmosphere had lightened. “I’ll see what I can do, dear.”

Duff chuckled, patting Axl’s arm fondly, “That’s my girl.”

\-----------------------

After their very creative meal of _Ramen Minaj,_ as Axl had insisted on calling it, Duff had left for his shift at the club. His parting words had been, “I’ll talk to Michelle for ya, see if you can get a job at the club.”

Axl wasn’t sure how the blonde had figured that he had lost his job waiting tables at the run down diner downtown the day before, but he didn’t ask, just nodded resignedly.

Once again, his chronic lateness had gotten him into an argument with the balding manager, Paul, a heavyset man in his late fifties who smoked at least two packs of cigarettes a day. The redhead was perfectly ok with getting chewed out a little, he’d clench his fist and bite his tongue if he had to – even keep the eye- rolling to a minimum-as long as it meant he kept his job, he needed it after all; but a careless comment that brought up some bad memories shot that plan to hell.

“You can’t do nothin’ right!” Paul had barked, jowls trembling as he spoke, “Should just stick to sucking cock in the back of some alley-“

He didn’t get any further than that; Axl’s fist had connected sharply with his jaw, sending the man reeling backward in shock. His large mouth opened and closed as red splotches spread across his jiggling cheeks.

Axl had socked him another one that sent his head snapping to the right, just because Paul was a motherfucking disgusting excuse of a human being. 

His voice came out low and dangerous, cracking a little under the weight of his rage, “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, you fat piece of shit!”

The older man, now gingerly holding his left cheek, seemed to have found his voice, “Don’t you fucking set a foot back in here! I’ll call the police, ya hear?”

Axl’s body had trembled with the need to lay another one on him, Paul seemed to have cottoned on to it, as he shrunk back against the ugly yellow wallpaper in fear; unfortunately other workers had begun to scramble into the office, alerted by the shrill shouting. He wasn’t exactly a big fan of the police either, so he had fled, wild eyed and furious; had went straight to the closest bar and drank himself into a stupor with the few bills he had in his pocket. Duff had to drag him home after last call. _As usual_.

His dry laughter echoed in the empty apartment- he was fucking pathetic. The heat wasn’t so bad now that the sun had gone down but his restlessness hadn’t decreased.  Sighing he reached hesitantly for the laptop, it had only been a few hours but _surely_ scrolling through the website might be more fun than sitting on his lumpy couch in the dark with his thoughts to keep him company.

“Whatever, man.” he whispered as he quickly brought up the website, this is what he has been reduced to huh? Dating websites were for old people in his opinion and nothing was ever gonna change that- but being bored and lonely wasn’t exactly fun either.

He was surprised to see 15 messages in his inbox and even more shocked at the profile picture duff had used.

Axl huffed fondly, “Where the fuck did he even _get_ this?” He looked hot, if he did say so himself, smirking deviously up at the camera, cheeks flushed and lips a deep red.

The silent apartment offered no answer.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the messages he received. Around ten had been explicit, lewd pictures attached to lewd messages sent by people with even lewder names.

“HungDaddy675 huh?” he asked, chortling at the picture of some guys dick, “I’ve seen bigger.” He typed quickly and hit send before he could stop himself; this was kinda fun after all.

 **Evrin Everly** : _hi there :)_

Intrigued, he brought up her profile and grinned at her profile picture, this chick was cute. A crushingly innocent face stared up at a camera from under a tangle of silky brown locks, her high cheekbones were flushed and her blue eyes sparkled endearingly.

“Well hello there gorgeous...” he typed, sending his message even though she was offline.

He scrolled uninterested through the remaining four messages- two of which were clearly bots-until he got to the final one.

“What the actual fuck?”

 **Slash** : _Hello. I have an offer for you. iiii]; )'_

There was a number beneath the message and a link to a profile.

Axl blinked at the screen for a while, wondering if the strange symbols were just a fucked up smiley of some sort, and if he should be worried this guy (girl?) was some creeper. And who the fuck calls them self Slash? A serial killer? Bringing up the profile, he chuckled at the display picture. A Skull with a curly afro, a large top hat and glasses stared ominously back at Axl. “Badass, I like it...”

 His profile clearly stated that he was male, 26, Bi and from the LA area. The occupation field had the same symbol ‘iiii]; )'’

“What in the world...?”

A smile tugged at Axl’s lips as he read his status, “ _Rock and Roll and Harley Ds_.” He could get along with this guy, even if he was a serial killer or whatever.  He stared at his screen for a few minutes, struggling to think up a cool reply.

 **ARose:** _What the fuck’s ‘iiii]; )'’ ?  A deformed smiley?_

Axl winced at his reply, smooth as always.

 **ARose:** _Also, are you a serial killer? Please tell me beforehand, I’d really rather be alive and not dismembered in some ditch._ _K?_

Yup, that made it all better. Groaning, the redhead shut the laptop before he could do any more damage.  Settling further into the couch, he flicked through the channels, turning the TV up as loud as he could and hoped his demons wouldn’t come knocking tonight.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Axl awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon the next morning. Groaning he sat up on the couch where he had fell asleep, wincing at the ache in his back.

“Good Morning Sunshine!” Duff crowed in a loud voice, tossing a smile over his shoulder from where he was setting the table.

“Please shut up.” He whined, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching to work the kinks out of his back. He needed to learn to sleep in his own damn bed.

“Well aren’t you a jolly bowl of jelly this Friday?”

Scowling, the redhead shuffled over to the small table, sitting on the rickety chair and eyeballing Duff suspiciously. “I’m more concerned about why _you’re_ so happy?”

“I’m always happy, Princess.”

Axl fixed him with an unbelieving stare, “to an extent, yes, but you’re fucking glowing, I can hardly look at you.”

Duff shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth, avoiding Axl’s gaze, “Dunno what you mean.”

Blue eyes widened with realization, “Oh my God, you got laid didn’t you?” he hissed gleefully, “But that’s not all, you _like_ this one!”

“You need to stop reading me like that.” He murmured, defeated.

“You make it super easy, buttmunch. Now tell me all about her.” The redhead dug into his eggs, eyes never leaving Duff’s face, which was slowly becoming flushed.

“He’s...” the blonde’s face flushed even further, “he’s great.”

Axl whistled, “You already sound whipped...”

“Oh stuff it!”

The redhead punched Duff gently, grinning, “Introduce me sometime, I wanna meet the guy who’s got you hooked after one fuck.”

“Sure, just don’t scare him away please,” he rose from the table before continuing, “Michelle says she might have a job for you, come by at six with me.” Blue eyes seemed to implore him not to fuck this opportunity up.

Axl sighed, “Yeah, thanks man. I’ll come check it out.”

Duff hummed his approval, while Axl stared at him with veiled curiosity. “Not gonna ask what happened?”

The blonde shrugged, “you can talk about it when you feel like,‘s not gonna change shit now anyway.”

“You’re a fuckin saint, ya know that?”

“You bet your ginger ass I am.”

\-------------

It was Saturday before Axl got the chance to check his messages again. Friday evening, Duff had dragged him down to Michelle’s Club and introduced him to his boss as promised. The raven haired woman had eyed him shrewdly, cigar hanging from the side of her mouth before asking: “He’s a pretty one, ’s he a stripper?”

Duff almost doubled over with the force of his laughter, pausing only when Axl had smacked him upside the head.

“Not a stripper, maam.”

She waved an elegant hand in dismissal, “no maam, I’m only 37, just Michelle. You got any talents kid?”

A little voice in the corner of his head resurfaced ‘ _oh yes, quite a talented whore, aren’t you?’_ forcing Axl to shake his head in attempts to dismiss it. His voice was strained when he spoke. “I can sing some.”

 Michelle looked intrigued, leaning well into his personal space, breath reeking of cigars and whisky. “Well... sing.” Even Duff looked curious; Axl hadn’t mentioned anything of this hidden talent.

“Right now... in the middle of the club?” Axl glanced around nervously, the room wasn’t full yet, but there was at least ten or so people scattered around the bar, and employees bustling about. _‘All waiting to witness your failure’_ the voice hissed, causing Axl’s stomach to churn.

Michelle snorted, shifting her weight from foot to foot impatiently “Well, you’ll have to sing on the stage eventually so...”

“Ok,” he croaked, sifting mentally through the songs he knew until he finally chose ‘Since I Don’t Have You’, his hands were clenched at his side and his eyes downcast as he started. But, as the song progressed, his voice was more confident and his body relaxed. Both Michelle and Duff were staring at him in awe. Other employees had stopped to pay attention to the kid and a few cheers went up when the song came to an end.

The brunette took a long drag of her cigar before she spoke, “Well shit kid. That sure was something... you’re hired- come in Sunday to practice with the others.”

Duff had practically glowed with pride, “Never knew you had it in ya, Princess.”

The swell of happiness that had risen in Axl stuck with him even now, a whole day later, where he sat huddled on the couch with his flat mate.

Both Evrin and Slash had replied to his messages. Was this his lucky week or something?

 

 **Evrin Everly** : _Hi there!_

 **ARose** : _Hey there gorgeous._

 **Evrin Everly** : _lol could say the same about you. Noticed you were from my area, wanna meet up for coffee?_

 

Axl, for some unforeseen reason, decided to read Slash’s message before he replied.

**Slash** : _Hello. I have an offer for you. iiii]; )'_

**ARose:** _What the fuck’s ‘iiii]; )' ?  A deformed smiley?_

**ARose:** _Also, are you a serial killer? Please tell me beforehand, I’d really rather be alive and not dismembered in some ditch._ _K?_

 **Slash: [9:55 pm/Saturday]** What would a serial killer say? 

 

Axl snorted, quickly typing a reply.

**ARose:**   _not sure, you’re the one with the name Slash._

**Slash:** _Fair enough._

**ARose** : _You didn’t answer my question._

 **Slash** : _No. I didn’t._

 **ARose: *sigh*** _what’s this about an offer?_

 **Slash:** _Leave your number, I’ll contact you later._

 

Wow, rude.  Axl didn’t know why he was still replying, but he guessed he was fascinated by the air of mystery shrouding him.

 

 **ARose:**   _What if you’re a crazy stalker who’ll try to kill me?_

 **Slash:** _Why don’t you find out? Have an adventure, on me._  :)

The redhead threw his head back and laughed long and loud at that, earning a concerned gaze from Duff. “You finally lost it?”

“Naw, just this guy I’m talking to.”

Duff smirked and returned his attention to Family Feud. “I hear ya...”

**ARose:** _Ok. Fine. But only because I was promised adventure. 844-1235-1234_

**Slash:** _Smart choice. Gtg- bye iiii]; )'_

 **ARose:** _ffs, what does that mean?!_

-Offline-

The redhead sighed in defeat, closing the laptop with an irritated snap. That Son of a Bitch had to explain those symbols sooner or later and it’d better be exciting. He had chosen ‘adventure’ over a pretty brunette and he’d better fucking get one.

Axl actually had _no_ idea what a hell of an adventure he was in for.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow Slash on social media, you'll realize he captions all his posts with " iiii]; )' "  
> Fuck if i know what it means.. it's somewhat amusing though.


	3. Chapter 3

Axl was up with the sun this morning, bustling about the apartment and cleaning from top to bottom.  He’d make an effort to be on time for practice and not somehow screw it over- Duff had gone to great ends to get him a job in what was one of the most sought after Clubs in downtown LA.

By the time his friend got around to dragging his ass out of bed, the table had been set and the apartment was neater than it had been in months. The coffee table was rid of its clutter, the tiled floor rubbed till it sparkled and there was no trash, empty beer cans or dust to speak of.

“Aww honey, all this for me?” He teased, sneakily transferring a pancake from Axl’s plate to his.

“Yeah right, I just wanted an early start.” He smacked Duff’s hands away from his plate on their second trip, “Michelle said I should be in to practice at 9.”

“You’ve got an hour to get going,” he said, impressed by how seriously Axl was taking this. “Want company?”

Axl flashed him a sunny smile, “Always from you.”

The bus ride downtown was always something Axl dreaded. The crowds, loud noises and the rush of traffic would always be overwhelming and confusing to the country boy inside him- no matter how long he lived in LA. His flat mate wasn’t distracting him today with light conversation, he was instead giggling at his phone and texting rapidly.

“Tell me it’s not the same guy.” Axl huffed, nudging the blonde’s shoulder, “this is getting ridiculous now. You’re acting like a love sick teenager.”

 Duff colored at Axl’s teasing, “’am not.”

“Are too.”

His hair was seized and a loose grip and yanked playfully, “Am NOT!” Duff’s phone vibrated again, pulling his attention-and his hand- back to its screen.

“Right.” He murmured, almost jumping when his own phone vibrated in his back pocket.

 **Slash:** _Hello. Got a minute?_

**Axl:** _Only if you’ve got that adventure you promised._

 **Slash:** _I actually never expected you to be up so early._ __ _It’s Sunday._

 **Axl:** _omw to work. I, on the other hand, expected you to be up, since all serial killers have to be up early to dispose of their victims. Common knowledge._

 **Slash** : _*sigh*Oh Rose, how will I ever prove my non-serial killer-ness?_

Axl smiled as his fingers danced across his screen, this could be interesting.

 **Axl:** _Its Axl btw._ _You can tell me about yourself._ __

So Slash told him. Apparently he was a guitarist who really liked sunglasses- _“serial killer fashion, if you ask me”_ Axl had teased- top hats and snakes _-“I have like, 3”_. Axl had interrupted him again with _“Holy shit, do you feed them your victims?”_ Slash had laughed (or sent laughing emojis- Axl hoped he was actually laughing) and replied with “Shut up. I’d have to cut them to bits- that’s too hard.” Axl had giggled at that, earning a curious gaze from Duff which he quickly dismissed. He liked good whiskey, good books and Classic Rock. He didn’t, however, like getting his hair wet, thunderstorms or sleeping alone. Axl had found himself sharing things about his own life. His favorite bands- he had positively lit up when Slash asked if he knew Aerosmith- his favorite books, and his old dream of becoming a lawyer. Axl was indifferent to snakes, a big fan of Stephen King, and whiskey was one of his favorite things.

 **Slash:** _Hey cool, so you’re a law student?_

**Axl:** _No._

 **Slash:** _Ok._

 

He whispered a silent ‘thank fuck’ when Slash didn’t push him further, he wasn’t ready to talk about _that_ mess. ‘ _He’ll have to know sometime, he’ll figure out how dumb you actually are,’_ A little voice hissed. Axl clenched his eyes shut, maybe nothing would come out of this, and he’d never have to know. _‘But you want something to come of it’_ it reminded him, Fuck. Now was not the time.

“You ok over there?” Duff asked, taking in his strained facial expression.

“Yeah. I’m fine, just texting.”

“Same guy from before?”

Axl’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing at Duff’s smirk, “Yeah... why?”

“Oh... nothing.” He replied, fooling no one. A new message cut off Axl’s line of questioning.

 **Slash:** _So innocence proven?_

 **Axl:** _hmmm... I dunno, the snake thing was pretty damning. The real question is do you look like a serial killer? I’ll have to meet you to make sure. Free Thursday?_

Axl held his breath as he waited for a reply, flipping the bird at Duff who was now grinning manically and wiggling his eyebrows.

 **Slash:** _Smooth. I’m unfortunately outta state this week, how does next Sunday sound?_

 **Axl:** _Yeah, ok sounds Good. Later_ __

 **Slash:** _I’ll send you the deets later, have fun at work. Bye._

The bus came to a stop, and the pair shuffled off it, walking briskly towards the Club a few yards away.

“So who is he?”

Axl rolled his eyes, casting a side glance at Duff. “I’ll trade that information when you tell me who your man is.”

“You never make it easy, do you?”

\------------------

Slash stared, smiling, at their messages for a while longer after Axl had said goodbye. He was glad he had chosen to contact him in the first place; the kid sure was an interesting piece of work. His sass and cleverness came out in each of his texts, entertaining Slash to no end. Maybe he had a temper to match his fiery red hai-

“Helloooo??” Myles was waving a hand frantically at him where he was perched on a speaker, “Earth to Slash!” The curly haired man flushed guiltily, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Uhm, yeah?” he muttered, coloring further under Myles’ amused gaze. Slash wasn’t usually distracted during practice unless it was family, or Perla. But Perla wasn’t a factor anymore- hadn’t been for a while now. “Weren’t we on a break or something?”

“I’ve been calling you for ages man, you spaced out.”  His thin lips curled deviously, “’s a chick isn’t it?”

Slash studiously avoided Myles’ gaze as he searched for Les Paul, his favorite guitar. “Not a chick. Hey have you seen-“

Elegant hands shoved his guitar at him, “It was right next to you.” The brunette chuckled, shaking his head, “were you even listening to the drum solo?”

“Err...”

“Awww fuck, I gotta do all that again?” Rich groaned from behind his drum set, twirling his drumsticks irritably between his fingers.

Slash’s winced in sympathy, “sorry man,” He mumbled, shoving himself to his feet and walking to the centre of the stage, Les Paul slung comfortably over his shoulder. “From the top?”

“You heard the boss man,” the vocalist announced, giggling into the microphone, voice echoing around the empty stadium. “He was just a little distracted by his lo-“

“Shut it Myles!” he muttered, dragging the mic stand away from his friend as the rest of the band chuckled. “Let’s go already.”

 He let his head loll as Rich gave the countdown, curls brushing against his skin. He thought of red hair and wicked smiles- next Sunday couldn’t come fast enough.

\-----------------------------

“Well he’s good, that’s for sure. He’s gonna be huge.” Michelle muttered to herself, eying Axl as he belted out note after note and his lithe form swayed in time with the music. When the kid had marched in, her employees had paid him no heed, now every gaze in the building was trained on the small stage where he stood. “Maybe I should bump him up to an hour?” she mused, absently flicking her cigar ash into the tray.

The cheers of her employees swelled inside the room, and she watched, amused, as the kid blushed up a storm.  Duff cheered the loudest, hollering in a falsetto “We love you Axl!” earning good-natured chuckles from the group and a flat look from Axl.

“Not half bad kid... how’s Saturday sound? Bigger crowd, more money, more exposure.” Michelle commented, considering her next offer. “Got a room upstairs where you can practice if ya like- soundproof of course- whadda’ ya say kid? Ready to strike it rich?”

Axl thought that if he grinned any wider, his face would split. “I suppose I am.”

Another cheer went up and Michelle nodded in approval, “Good. We’ll talk more later.” With that, she rose gracefully from her chair, and stalked up the stairs to her office, red dress flowing around her calves. The small group dispersed and Duff ran onto the stage to pull Axl into a crushing embrace.

“Duff... I need air.” He bit out, squirming as he was lifted off the stage. Duff released him guiltily, “sorry kid, just being a proud mum.”

Axl laughed, patting his shoulder, “so it’s mum and not husband now?”

“Gotta change with the times, man.”

An upbeat voice interrupted their conversation, “Oh. Duff!” Both men twisted around to face the bubbly blond with too-long bangs behind the drums. Duff made an interesting choking sound beside Axl.

“Hey Steven,” he muttered, sunny smile warring with an embarrassed flush, “didn’t know you were in today.”

“No biggie, didn’t notice you till now either.” The blonde grinned, leg bouncing with excess energy. They both stared at each other for a while, wearing similar goofy smiles, until Axl put two and two together. Well, well, well.

“Hello there, Steven,” the redhead chirped, stifling a laugh when his friend shot him a warning glare, “we haven’t met formally. I’m Duff’s flat mate Axl Rose.”

Steven slid from behind the drums, walking ‘round to continue their conversation. Axl almost lost it when he noticed how dwarfed Steven looked next to Duff.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steven Adler,” he smiled warmly as he stuck out his hand, innocent blue eyes sparkling up at the redhead.

Axl couldn’t hold it any longer; his shoulders shook with the force of his laughter. Steven’s confused smile just added fuel to the fire. “Oh God...” he gasped between giggles, “you’re so adorable.” He grabbed Steven’s still outstretched arm and yanked him into a hug, arm tossed casually over his shoulders. Duff watched, barely holding back his own laughter, as Axl gave Steven a noogie.

The blonde giggled and smacked half-heartedly at Axl’s hand, “Hey! Stop fucking with my hair.”

“So small.” Axl muttered, holding him at arm’s length. “How are you small and adorable?”

“We’re almost the same height.” He pouted, earning another chuckle from Axl.

“I see why he’s so taken with you.” Duff yanked Steven away from Axl, flushing when the redhead wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “He’s precious.”

“Yeah well, get your own.” Duff mumbled, smiling shyly Steven tangled their fingers.

“I think I will.”  Axl mused, almost to himself.

The trio went to get lunch together, laughing and talking about any and everything. Steven and Duff kept sneaking glances at each other when they thought no one was looking. Real sweet. Axl fake heaved a few times, just to tease. Steven seemed like an honest bowl o’ sunshine, chattering enthusiastically about drums, music and weirdly enough, popcorn. They walked him to the bus stop, where Axl politely stood a way off while Duff had a “whispered conversation” with Stevie.

“So, dinner on Thursday?”

“Yeah. That’d be great”

“Last night was...”

“Yeah,”

Then the soft kissing sounds came. Axl was caught somewhere between ‘aww cute’ and ‘why can’t I have that’. Steven left a few minutes later and Duff was on cloud nine on their own bus ride home.  Axl sighed wistfully, memories of his own relationship with Izzy resurfacing with astonishing clarity. Even though there had been many fights, Izzy truly understood Axl- even if he couldn’t deal with the baggage in the long run. He wondered if he’d ever have something like that again, something he wouldn’t fuck up. The blurring cityscape offered him no answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Michelle Young is supposed to be roughly the same age as the boys, but i made her older in this.. because why not?  
> So, more?


	4. Chapter 4

The week went by at a speed that only summer weeks seemed to posses. Axl life was a series of band practices, late nights behind the bar (when Michelle needed the extra hands) and chats with Slash.

Duff had nagged him about his ‘mystery man’ until he snapped and spilled the beans about ‘Slasher’-as he had taken to calling him, even after he had insisted on Saul.

“So are you two gonna meet?” Duff asked, sprawled languorously on Axl’s bed, watching with faint amusement as the redhead bustled about.

“Sunday.” Axl replied distractedly as he rooted through his closet. His performance was in two hours and he couldn’t find anything to wear. Leather maybe?

“That’s tomorrow.”

“Uhh huh...” he muttered, yanking out an Thin Lizzy tee and holding it up to Duff, “How’s this?” the blonde squinted, then nodded in approval.

“What if he’s a serial killer?”

Axl guffawed, shooting a guarded look at his flat mate. “Then it’d be an adventure.”

He knew everything had seemed too good to be true. Almost two hours later, Axl was sitting tensely on the floor in one of Michelle’s rooms, bathed in cold sweat. His muscles were locked tightly by fear; Tracii- the bassist- had been admitted to the hospital and couldn’t make the show, downstairs the club was overflowing with people staring expectantly at the stage and Axl was pretty sure he forgot the lyrics of whatever he was supposed to be performing in the next 15 minutes. To add fuel to the fire, the voices were having a field day with the situation. Harsh words from his old teachers, his siblings, faceless men on the street- and loudest of all- his stepfather all melded in a horrifying cacophony _. “Failure”, “little nobody”, “just like his worthless Pa”, “once you’re trash, you’re always trash”._ His body shook as he struggled to breathe; terrified tears stung the corners of his eyes.

“Axl? Jesus Christ, Axl!” Duff shook his shoulders roughly, “are you ok?”

The redhead glanced up, expression slack and dazed, “Duff?” he asked, voice weak and wavering.

“I’m here. It’s just me.” His trembling hand rubbed soothing circles into Axl’s back, he watched as more of his friend seemed to return with each pass of his hand.

Axl chuckled depreciatingly, leaning into Duff’s touch. “Sorry you had to see whatever that was.” His body was still shuddering and his visage pallid.

The blonde didn’t answer, just plopped on the cold floor next to him and pulled him closer.  They sat there in silence till the tremors stopped and his breathing returned to normal. Axl wanted nothing more than to burst into angry tears and bury his face in Duff’s shoulder, cry until he was drained. But his pride wouldn’t let him.

“It’s all shot to hell huh?” Axl croaked, wiggling deeper into the blonde’s embrace.

“Why’d ya say that?”

The redhead smiled wanly into Duff’s neck. “Uhh, let’s see. No bassist plus a fucked up vocalist.” Duff ignored the Axl’s cutting remark about himself.

“I can stand in for Tracii if ya want.” He whispered, chuckling at the speed at which Axl sat up.

“You?”

“Me.”

“You’d do that?” he whispered, the faint light from the window making him appear younger than he was. He seemed awed that anyone would bother doing anything for him. Duff’s heart clenched.

“I believe I will. Looked over the sheet music, nothing little old me can’t handle.”

Axl nodded to himself, the fight returning to his eyes. “I need to go clean up.”He said, springing to his feet, “I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

“We’re gonna rock LA then?” Duff asked, grinning when Axl turned to stare him down, blue eyes fierce, lips curled in his trademark smirk.

“You bet your ass we will.”

And so they did. When Axl sashayed unto the stage in his leather pants and his cowboy boots- no less than 15 minutes late- a hush fell over the club. He didn’t stop to introduce himself, didn’t even greet the crowd, but he sure did sing. The crowd watched entranced as some redhead they’d never heard of captured their hearts through song; the band had this wild energy, dangerous even, that seemed to reach out and drag you into their world. Before the final note had been sung, the club erupted into ear splitting screams, men and woman alike knocking over chairs and rising to their feet to applaud.  Axl let their praises wash over him, staring out into the sea of faces in disbelief- _he_ had caused that, the small town kid with too many problems, _he_ had been able to evoke that response.

“Good night LA!” he yelled, grinning when the crowd begun to cheer louder, “My name is Axl Fuckin’ Rose and I’m here to rock your world!”

With that, they flowed smoothly into a cover of Aerosmith’s _Mama Kin,_ which had everyone in the venue swaying; hands raised high above their heads as they sung along. Michelle watched them from the side of the stage, watched his fluid movements, his charming grin and the crowd’s adoring chants. She stood there combating the urge to rave and scream right along with them, the kid’s voice seemed to seep into her bones and call out to the wild being within.

“Well shit,” she mused, “I think I’m witnessing the birth of a legend.” The cheers that went up as the song ended seemed to support her theory.

\--------------------------------

Axl was convinced this entire week had been a dream and he would wake up at any second in his dingy old room back in Indiana. When Michelle had written him a check for more money than he had ever seen in his short life, he had just held the paper in his outstretched hand, staring puzzlingly at it. He didn’t stop at the bar to celebrate with Steven and Duff, didn’t stop to talk to any of the women or men, who were staring at him invitingly, didn’t buy any liquor to burn through. He just went straight home, stripped down to his skivvies and lay in his bed staring unseeing at the ceiling.

He groped blindly in the darkness until he felt the outline of his phone. He needed to tell someone of his success, needed to share the information just in case he woke in the morning doubting himself; needed someone who would be there tomorrow, reassuring him of the nights events with a : “Yeah. It’s all real. It happened.”

**Axl [11:33pm]:** This might have been the best night of my life. 

He waited, listening to the sound of his heart and the faint sounds of arguing on the street below.

**Slash [11:36]:** _Christ kid, don’t you sleep?_

**Axl:** _I performed and didn’t mess up._

**Slash:** _hmm... did you? Congratulations Rose._

 Axl smiled softly to himself.

**Axl:** _Does this mean I’m a rockstar now?_

**Slash:** _I dunno, did you wear leather?_

**Axl:** _Leather pants, yes._

**Slash:** _Oh Wow. I believe you are then._

Axl grinned; of course he’d like the leather pants. He should’ve taken a picture before he left. He tossed and turned for a few minutes, unable to fall asleep. A completely random thought popped into his head, ‘ _Wait, what_ _did Slash_ _sound_ like?’ The redhead was surprised he had never thought of this before.

**Axl [12:05am]:** _Hey, Slasher, do you sound like a serial killer?_

**Slash [12:10am]:** _Axl, Go to bed._

**Axl:** _But I can’t now that I’ve started thinking about it._

**Slash:** _Fine._

The redhead puzzled over what that meant for a while before his loud Metallica ringtone started playing, the picture of the curly haired skull met his startled gaze. Panicking, he smashed the reject button, heart racing frantically in his chest. “Oh. My. God. Why the fuck did I hang up?” he hissed.

**Slash:**   _Lol Axl... did you just hang up on me? I’m laughing so fucking hard rn._

**Axl:** _Shut up, I was just caught off guard, call again._

‘Wherever I may roam’ started again, but this time Axl was prepared for it. He quickly accepted the call and raised the phone to his ear, waiting with baited breath for Slash to speak.

“What, you aren’t even gonna say hello?” A surprisingly soft voice teased, sounding a little bit rough from sleep and nothing like Axl had expected. He decided right then and there that he liked that voice and wanted to hear more of it.

“Well you’re the one who called.” He replied, wincing at the sass in his tone. Slash’s deep chuckle seemed to roll through Axl’s entire body, abating his fears of offending him.

“Fair enough, Gingersnap.” The fond nickname sent a thrill through him.

“Were you sleeping when I texted?” he queried, rolling unto his stomach and swinging his legs like a teen talking to their crush.

Amusement permeated through the guitarist’s words, “Even alleged serial killers need their sleep, Axl.”

“Sorry about waking you.” He muttered, fiddling absently with his sheets. He hadn’t expected to get so flustered from just a phone call.

“No no, it’s comes with the territory,” he teased; Axl could hear the shuffling of sheets and wondered where Slash was right now. Would it be rude to ask? Axl’s brain decided to go right ahead with it.

“Where are you right now?” he winced, oh god he was terrible at this. The guitarist didn’t seem bothered though.

“I’m home in LA.”

“So we’re still on for later then? Since you’re here and all.”

“Of course, you gotta to make sure there’s not a serial killer on the loose,” Axl blushed at his gentle teasing, “you can meet me at Michelle’s, know that club?”

“I work there.”

“Really?” he chirped, sounding more awake by the second, “she’s a friend of mine.”

“Huh... small world?”

_Really Axl? Small world? That’s all you could think of?_

“Hahaha, yeah. So tell me about that performance or yours.”

“I wouldn’t wanna bore you with that.”

“Good, cause you’re anything but boring. Tell me about it.”

Axl huffed an amused laugh, “yeah ok, but remember you asked.” He gave him a quick rundown of the night’s event, making light of his earlier panic attack and his paralyzing fears of failure. “Could feel all the blood draining from my face when they told me Tracii couldn’t show, ran upstairs and slammed the door in my boss’ face.” Slash’s deep laugh sounded from the other end of the line, coaxing an answering giggle from Axl. “I thought she’d fucking fire me after, man. But she didn’t say a word, just wrote me a hefty check and winked.”

“Michelle has a way with people, and apparently a radar for potential stars.”

Axl rolled unto his back, pleased at Slash’s words, “yeah?”

“Well yeah, she found _me,_ ” he sing-songed, “ _you_ , I’m so not sure ‘bout.”

The redhead squawked in fake outrage as Slash begun to chortle, “I’d top you any day, old man.” he colored when the double entendre of his words set in.

“Oh, would you?” the words were innocent enough, but his tone was sinfully dark. The redhead’s lips parted for a sassy reply, but a yawn forced its way out before he could stop it.

“Ok Rosie, bed time.”

His eyelids were heavy and his words slurred together, had he always been this tired? “Yeah, yeah, g’night Slasher.”

“Goodnight.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Remember, text me if anything happens.” Duff fussed, “are you sure I can’t meet him first?”

Axl groaned as he smoothed over his long hair, “Duff, I promise I’ll text you if something happens. But, it just so happens that I can take care of myself.” The red head pulls on a plaid shirt over his white tee, grabbing his phone before heading for the door.

“Tell him you have dangerous friends, ok?” Duff called, a dark look crossing his usually smiling face, “cause I swear to fuck I will beat him within an **_inch_** of his-“

Axl grins at his friend’s over protectiveness. It was nice having someone who gave a fuck about him. “Duff. It’s ok, I’ll make sure he knows. Promise.” He gathered his flat mate in a quick hug, before rushing out of the apartment.

The usually tedious ride downtown didn’t bother Axl at all. He fidgeted in his seat, earning disapproving glances from old ladies. By the time he was almost at Michelle’s, his stomach was overrun by butterflies-the annoying pests. He stood outside the building, gaze sweeping over anyone who passed by, glancing at the time repeatedly. 4:03pm

 **Axl:** Where are you Mr. Serial Killer?

 **Slash:** Im just arriving.

Axl eyes roamed past a sleek black limo pulling up- _naw, that was unlikely, right?_ \- and swept the sparse sidewalk. Where the fuck was this guy? The fact that he had no clue how Slash looked wasn’t helpful. Axl was beginning to get annoyed- which was funny, since he was usually the one late, and Slash wasn’t even really late.

 **Axl:** uhhh, where?

“Psssst...Over here.”

Axl’s attention snapped to the Limo a few yards away from him, a tinted window was rolled down a bit, but all he could make out from this distance was...well, darkness. The voice was definitely coming from there though. He cautiously approached the window.

“Uhh... Slasher?” he asked, now placing the familiar voice.

“Took you long enough. C’mon I can’t stay out here.” The door was opened from the inside and Axl, against his better instinct, slipped in slamming the door behind him.

“Dude, how’d you get a fuckin’ lim-” he begun, but his words cut off with an embarrassing squeak when he finally looked at the man across from him. Slash sat across from him with arms crossed, tight denim pulled taught over splayed his thighs. His clear brown skin contrasted with his impeccably white t-shirt that stretched over his muscled chest and _fuck_ his tattoos were doing things to Axl. His gaze slowly moved from his bulging biceps to, _oh_ \- his hair. A mass of black curls tumbled over his shoulders and Axl ached to sink his fingers into them. Warm brown eyes stared at him from beneath stray curls and his plush lips were curled in a smirk.

He had obviously been staring; he cleared his throat, fighting down a blush. “Ok Wow. You sonofabitch you’ve been holding out on me.”

Slash laughed, a low rumbling sound, the action causing his curls to bounce a bit and damn it was even better to _see_ him do it. “I could say the same about you, gingersnap.”

Axl blushed, trying to not get lost in deep brown eyes and failing so badly, “At least you knew what I looked like; I had to be content with a fucking skull.”

They both grinned at that, “well at least they got the hair right.” Silence settled over the Limo, but not the tense kind, just a comfortable silence. They both observed each other, grinning widely. Axl feared his face would freeze that way if this kept up for long.

“Uh... so where do ya wanna go?” Slash asked, ripping his gaze from the stunning creature before him, “can’t sit out here all evening.”

“You always give your victims a choice?” Axl teased, becoming more relaxed by the second. _This is just Slash, I can do this._

The guitarist let out an honest-to-god giggle which he smothered quickly with his hand. “God...to be honest, I don’t know where to take you. I’ve always sucked at this part.”

“Man, I know what you mean... can we just go eat unhealthily somewhere?”

“Take out? Then my house?” Slash queried, blushing at Axl’s leer, “I mean, just to eat. Being seen out would prolly be a pain.”

Axl raised an eyebrow, “It’s ok, and I get it. I personally hate eating out, so no problem.” The guitarist was staring at him in disbelief. “What?” the redhead fidgeted self- consciously.

A fleeting thought crossed Slash’s mind- _he has no idea who I am._ Usually, Slash had to worry about his partners dating him just for his fame, the money (both his and his families) or just to proudly say: “Hey, I fucked _The_ Slash, let me tell you all about it”, usually to some tabloid or gossip column. He had been screwed over so many times because of it- most recently by Perla- and was cautious about the whole dating thing. But there was Axl, staring up at him, eyes full of fondness and lust but definitely, not recognition.

“Kid...” he began, and then thought the better of it. That was a discussion for another time, not the first date. “Never mind, let’s go eat ourselves into an early grave. James, take us to the greasiest joint in town.”

Axl’s face lit up at the offer.  “Sounds like a plan, Slasher.”

Slash quickly relayed some directions to some guy he called James and the Limo pulled away from the curb, cruising to the nearest Burger Joint. The guitarist took one look at the overcrowded venue and decided use the drive through.

“Hello, may I take your order?”

“Do the honors?”Slash offered.

“With pleasure.” Axl cleared his throat and pasted on a fake British accent, “’em, can I have a large numbah 5, 6, 7 and 8?” Slash giggled beside him, squinting at the menu and silently adding to the ridiculous order.

 “Ask for slushies and Uhh... scones?” he mouthed

“Uhh... would you like extra fries with all... that?” the worker sounded suitably stunned, probably waiting for a prank to be revealed.

“Of course, my dear lad!” the redhead exclaimed, pausing to compose himself before continuing, “you don’t happen to have scones, do you?”

Slash snorted loudly, ducking his head to bury the sound when Axl smacked him.

“N-No sir, no scones. But we do have apple pie?”

The brown eyed man nodded in encouragement, so Axl shrugged and decided to take it. “Er... we’ll hav’ it then, gov’na. Make it a large eh?”

They sat there listening to their ridiculous order being read back to them and then made their way to the second window to pick up their order. Axl slid to the opposite side of the Limo, “Dude, I had to do the wonky accent. _You_ pay for it.”

Snorting, the brunette slipped on his glasses and quickly took care of the transaction, ignoring the suspicious glance he was getting from the employee.

“Hey...” the kid murmured, “You look a lot like that rock...”

“K, thanks, kid.” Slash muttered, cutting him off quickly as his change was handed back

“Next window to pick up.”

“Uhh, yeah.” The tinted window blocked the kid’s curious stare. He rolled down the partition to ask James to pick up the food, he wasn’t risking that again. Shortly after, they’re speeding down the streets towards Slash’s home with a ridiculous amount of food and two hysterical passengers.

“Dude, 5, 6, 7 _and_ 8? Who the fuck’s gonna eat all this?” Slash huffed, staring at the large bags at food, next to Axl.                                                                                    

“Hey, maybe James wants some apple pie?”The redhead asked, peeking at the man in the front seat.

The stoic man quirked an eyebrow at the pair in the rearview mirror, an accent lilting his words. “I prefer scones myself, sirs.” Axl froze in embarrassment, Oh God, the man was decidedly British. _Had he heard that horrible imitation earlier?_

The man smirked at the redhead as if he knew exactly what he was thinking, “I must say, Mr...”

“Rose.” He croaked, glaring at Slash who was looking way too amused at the situation.

“...Rose, your British accent needs some work.” His grey eyes sparkled with mischief and Slash roared with laughter next to him. Axl was pretty sure his face was three shades past red by now. The car slowed before a huge intricately carved gate, waiting until it swung inwards to continue inside.

To say it was fancy would be an understatement, Axl’s face was practically squished against the window as he tried to take in everything he was seeing and - _oooh_ , there was a fountain with naked people carved into it and _what had Slash said he did again?_ The car stopped and James got out, opening the door for them, Slash slid out without Axl noticing since he was still marveling at the Mansion looming over them.

“Uhm... Rose?”

“Huh? Oh yeah,” he flushed- damn he’d been doing that a lot this evening- sliding over the leather seats and outside, coming face to face with one very amused James. He cleared his throat nervously, “sorry about fucking up your accent, James.” He winced at the profanity; his mama would give him the evil eye if she heard him. _And the stepfather would probably crush your skull while she watched-_ Axl smothered that train of thought.

Slash chuckled as he carried the three large bags of food with ease towards the house, “Don’t be too hard on him, James.”

“It’s Ok Mr. Rose; I’ll even give you lessons if you want.” Axl blushed and jogged to catch up with Slash, who was still grinning. He elbowed him in the ribs, pleased when the grin morphed into a pout, “Your driver is Scary as _fuck_.”

“Am I?” The posh accent sounded from behind them, causing the redhead to squeal and jump about three feet into the air. Slash leaned against the wall and laughs so hard his eyes water. “Also, I’m the butler.” He muttered without heat as he opened the carved oak doors, holding it open for both men to walk through.

“C’mon, livin room.” He trailed behind Slash to the living room, watching him lower the bags with ease unto the coffee table. “I’ll be back, unpack in the mean time?”

Axl stood silently, staring in awe at the room, turning in a complete circle until he was facing the huge flat screen TV- _did they even make them that big?_ He shrugged and begun unpacking, by the time he was through the large table was covered with number 5, 6, 7, 8 and a giant apple pie, not to mention the extra fries with _every_ order.

“Dinner’s served it seems?” Slash asked, grinning, hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The redhead shrugged off his shirt, lowering it carefully unto the leather couch, pausing when he heard a soft intake of breath.

Slash was staring at him in wonder, eyes running over his arms, “You had tattoos?”

“Well, yeah...?” Axl croaked, breathing sharply as the guitarist sauntered over to him.

“Couldn’t tell from the picture,” he whispered, reaching towards Axl’s hands, “May I?”

The redhead nodded, not trusting his voice right now.  Slash’s gloved hand grasped his forearm, and a finger traced the lines his colorful tattoos. He chuckled at the ‘Axl Rose’ tattoo, “Of course you have your own name tattooed on your arm.”

“Uhh huh... I noticed your caricature on your left hand.” He teased, a bit breathily. “I’m not the only narcissist in this room.” Slash grinned, releasing Axl’s hand, and stepping backwards.

“Touché, Gingersnap.” He gestured grandly at the table of food, “and now for dinner and the evening’s entertainment.”

Axl rolled his eyes fondly at the man’s antics. “Dibs on number 8, its chicken. Not sure what the hell the rest are.” Slash flicked on the large TV and tried to subtly reach said number 8, squawking in mock outrage when the redhead snatched it before him.

“Gotta move faster than that old man.” He teased, plopping on the couch and noisily opening the wrapper. Slash sighed theatrically, grabbing the number 7-it was as good a number as any- before he sat next to Axl.

“Oooh, Netflix. What are we watching?” the redhead asked, stuffing his mouth full of fries. Ahhh, an early grave never tasted so good.

“What do you wanna watch?”

The redhead pretended to think about this for a while, “Justice League is very educational.”

“Thank God!” Slash grinned, “thought you were gonna make me watch some chick flick or Vampire whatever.”

Axl gasped, clutching his chest, “just what kind of monster do you take me for?”

The two sat like that for almost two hours, knees pressed together, making random comments throughout the episodes, chatting and eating their way steadily through the food, cracking obnoxious jokes about heroes wearing their underwear outside.

“Maybe it’s a kink of some kind...?” Slash shrugged, watching as the redhead threw back his head and laughed, offering up the pale line of his throat. He swallowed and looked away. “Public humiliation maybe.”

“Maybe. Dude, Superman and Batman have been eye-fucking each other for so long.” Axl muttered, reaching for a slice of apple pie, “they should hook up.”

Slash nodded in agreement, “I know right? It’s painful to watch.” He groped around the table for that mysterious number 6, “I swear, I’m gonna be sick after this. Is this... fish?”

“I second that.” Axl groaned, resting his head comfortably on Slash’s shoulder without thought, “I never thought I could be tired of eating. But I am.” He slurped his slushy obnoxiously, giggling as The Flash face planted at super speed into a building.

“Hey, want a drink? I think we earned it.”  He asked after a few minutes, when most of the food had been eaten, except number 5... No one would touch that.

Axl quirked a brow, “Jack?”

“You’re in luck.” He wiggled off the couch, head to kitchen and returned shortly after with two glasses and a large bottle of Jack. And that was when things started to go downhill in Axl’s opinion, the redhead had gotten drunk after about three glasses, and his tongue loosened by liquor begun to blab about things he hadn’t planned to. He body was pressed against Slash’s, whose hand was thrown comfortably around Axl’s waist; the fucker seemed pretty much unaffected by the whiskey,

“Duuuuuude... I think I’m drunk. Did you get me drunk?” he slurred, no longer watching the TV, but burying his face into Slash’s neck and inhaling.

“Nope, we had the same amount.” The guitarist chuckled, “not my fault you’re a lightweight.”

“Am naaawwwt,” he whined, pouting when Slash shifted around and took his empty glass from him.

“You are, so just drink the rest of your slushie,” he said, shoving the unfinished large beverage into Axl’s hand. “You young’uns can never hold your liquor.”

Axl giggled, shifting till he was leaning against the arm of the couch, feet in Slash’s lap. “You’re not even that old, just 26.”

“Silly Rose, do the math, I’m 5 years older than you,” he teased, wiggling five fingers for effect, “that’s half a decade, which might as well be half a century, so technically I’m 50 years older than you, didn’t they teach you that in school?” Slash’s logic was making a crazy kinda sense to Axl’s alcohol addled brain. He wasn’t laughing though, the guitarist watched in shock as the redhead pulled his knees up to his chin and wailed in a thin, child-like voice: “But Slasher, I _can’t_ do the math, I never finished school.” His blue eyes shone with unshed tears and his bottom lip trembled.

Slash stared at Axl, who seemed to be trying not to cry, unsure of what to do. “Uhh... It’s ok, I hated school, didn’t even go to college,” He pulled the redhead’s feet back into his lap, “and look where I am now.”

“But... But I liked it, I was good at it.” He murmured, beginning to sniffle, “but it was pretty hard to learn anything when you were hungry all the time or getting  the shit beat outta you and you couldn’t even afford half the shit you needed for school anyway...“ The redhead knew with horrifying certainty that he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop, after years of not talking about it, the words seem to claw their way from his throat, needing to be heard. “-which is just as well since I wouldn’t be able to afford college, my record was absolute shite and the teachers all hated me.” He tried to laugh but it came out a sob instead, “Stephen always did say I was being a pretentious fuck going to school like anything was gonna come of it-” He cut of abruptly, inhaled deeply, and then burst into tears.

Slash pulled him into a hug, stroking his hair, “Sssh, it’s ok. Stephen sounds like a total douche bag anyway. I'd kick his ass if i ever saw him.” Axl chuckled wetly through his tears and pulled away and swiped at his tears with the back of his hand. He looked around, seemingly realizing where he was and what the fuck just happened.  Humiliation settled heavy in his stomach, he needed to leave.

His face blanched, “ _Christ._ Sorry... I’m not sure where that came from.” he groped around for his phone, accidentally knocking over one of the glasses. He flinched at the sound of it shattering, shooting an apologetic glance at Slash, “sorry, I’ll pay for that. It’s getting late,” he mutters, glancing at his phone. “I gotta go-”

“Hey Axl, don’t worry about it.” The guitarist rose, hands held out in a soothing gesture, “I’ll get you home.”

Axl stared at the spot over his shoulder, “I’ll take the bus-”

“Not when you’ve drank this much, James will drop you home.”

Axl nodded wordlessly, grabbing his shirt from the back of the couch, almost running from the room, shame following hot on his heels. James was standing by the front door, and _fuck did he stand there the whole time?_ He glanced at Axl’s distressed, tear-streaked face and Slash’s worried expression and held back his usual teasing.

“Take him home for me?” the guitarist asked softly, not meeting the man’s eyes.

The man nodded wordlessly, going outside to start the car, leaving the two men alone.

“So... I’ll text you tomorrow?” the guitarist asked hopefully, watching Axl inspect the tiles. He wondered if it would be okay to reach over and hold him. Probably not.

Axl smiled wanly, not convinced for one minute that Slash would ever want to see him again. “Yeah, if you still want to. This was... fun.”And it was, before he decided to weep all over his date’s shirt and ramble about his fucked up childhood. He left without another word, sliding into the limo and avoiding James’ gaze.

Slash stood at the door, watching until the vehicle was swallowed up by darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little long, sorry? :)  
> Also, I know Slash technically didn't give himself the name Slash- but just for this story, bear with me xD

“Axl,” Duff called softly, it was 12:03 pm and the man hadn’t been out since he stalked into his room without a word late last night and slammed the door shut.

There was no answer.

“Axl, you need to eat.”

Nothing for a while, then a faint “I’m not hungry.”

“Can I come in?” he whispered, forehead resting against the cold door. He was worried to say the least.

Axl made a non-committal grunting sound and Ok, that was a yes in Duff’s book. “I’m coming in then.” He opened the door slowly, and stepped into the dark room. The heavy drapes were still shut and in the faint light filtering through, he could make out a vague human-shaped lump on the bed.

He perched cautiously on the bed staring at the lump and waiting for acknowledgement. A section of the blanket shifted and Axl peered out from under it, eyes red rimmed and puffy.

 “What.” His voice was no more than a weak rasping sound.

“Princess, what happened?” Duff’s voice trembled as he asked, he swore to God if that fucker had laid hands on the kid, he’d find him and end him, serial killer or no.

The redhead pushed back more of the blankets till his face was visible, sighing; “I believe I fucked up a perfectly good date.”

The blonde released a breath he hadn’t realize he was holding, “What happened? He didn’t try anything did he?”

“I happened.” He groused, suddenly annoyed at the world and everyone in it. Duff stared at him patiently until Axl finally relayed the story, by the end of it his eyes were glistening with tears. “And I basically high-tailed it outta there, it was fucking humiliating.” He spat the words bitterly, “I can’t believe I’m this fucking weak.”

The blonde’s eyes were filled with sadness, “scoot over a bit.” They shuffled around until Duff was under the blankets cuddling Axl. The redhead cried silently on his chest, not so much for his ruined date but for his ruined youth. Duff comforted him with soothing sounds, running gentle finger through his hair.

“I got news for you Princess, talking about your feelings doesn’t make you weak.” He begun after a while, “And I don’t think you ruined it, based on his reaction. He seems like a good guy.” Axl was doubtful, because _how could someone like Slash want someone as damaged as him?_ He didn’t mention it, Duff wouldn’t have liked it. “And I think...” he continued haltingly, “I think you need to talk about the... things that happened in Indiana with someone.”

Axl whined pitifully, “It’s not... they aren’t good things.”

Duff’s heart clenched, he wanted to kick the stuffing outta anyone who had ever hurt Axl. He held him tighter, “I know, but I think that may be why you need to get it out.”

He forces an “ok” around the lump in his throat, and buries himself deeper into Duff’s embrace.

The room was silent for a while, filled only with the sound of their breathing and Axl’s occasional sniffles.

“So how was your date?” Duff queried, trying to lighten the mood.

Axl chuckled-albeit weakly, “One hell of an adventure.” He begun telling Duff about the whole shebang, pausing only when they both burst into laughter or at Duff’s interjections- _A Limo? Holy shit, he’s loaded!_

They were both gasping for breath when he reached the sections about James. “Dear God Axl, only you could make an enemy of a mild-mannered driver.”

Axl’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “no no, not driver, he’s the butler.” He said, mimicking the man’s accent; both men erupted into giggles. “We never did get around to touching that number 5... I think it moved on the table.”

“No wonder you aren’t hungry,” Duff crowed, “you ate enough to feed a small village last night.”

“I’m surprised I’m not sick. Or... ya know... dead.”

“Thank fuck for small mercies,” the blonde murmured, shifting to his side to face Axl. “Sounds like you like this guy.”

“Yeah. I guess I do.”

“It’ll all work out then.”

Axl really hoped it would.

\------------------------------

“Sir,” James’ usually mild voice sounded dangerously close to snapping.

Slash fidgeted under his irritated gaze, “But what if he doesn’t want me to call? God I had to go make a stupid math joke.”

“Sir...”

“But I wanna know if he’s ok, he got home last night, right?” the brunette asked, ignoring his butler’s tone.

The man sighed, exasperated, “Yes, he did. But Sir-“

Slash stared moodily out the window at the blurring buildings, “I might have scared him away,” he sighed heavily, “this is all my fault.”

“SAUL!” Slash started, knocking his forehead on the window. “Will you just shut up and call him, already?” James groused, “You’ve been at it for the better half of the morning.”

The guitarist winced at the harsh tone, James had been with him since he was ten and was basically his caretaker, even moving with him when he had revealed he wanted to pursue a career in music. James only ever used his first name when Slash was in a load of trouble or when he was being an irritating bugger. “But-”

“No buts.” He said shortly, “Call him, now.”

Slash sighed, reaching for his phone and quickly dialing Axl before he could change his mind. His heart raced as he listened to the phone ring, willing the redhead to pick up.

“Hello?” a voice that was decidedly not Axl’s answered, his heart sunk.

“Uhm... yes hello, may I speak to Axl?”

“I’m guessing you’re Slash?” the voice asked, sounding unimpressed to say the least.

“Yes?” he had no idea why that came out as a question.

The man grunts, “Just a warning man, if you fuck with Axl, I will find you and cut your balls off.”

Slash gulped, the man sounded disturbingly sincere, “I won’t, I swear.” James quirked an eyebrow at him in the rearview mirror, looking ready to laugh at any second.

“You better not,” he snorted, “I don’t care how rich you a-” there was an audible tussle for the phone and a whispered _‘what the fuck are ya doin’?’_

“Uh... Slash?” Axl croaked, “Hello?”

“Oh, hey Axl, your... er friend was just threatening to castrate me.” He joked, chuckling at the redheads spluttering. James laughed silently behind the wheel.

“ _Christ,_ sorry about him,” he mumbled, “that was my psychotic flat mate.”

“No, it’s fine.” He grinned, tugging at strands of his hair- a nervous quirk. “I just wanted to... how are you?” _Real smooth Slash._

The redhead cleared his throat, speaking softly “I’m...uh, I’m better, I think. Sorry about last night.”

“No, it’s ok. I had fun.” Slash winced _, had fun watching his breakdown?_ James rolled his eyes.

“Me too,” Axl chuckled, putting the brunette at ease. “All things considered.”

“So wanna do something else sometime?” If James laughed any harder the car would probably crash.

A sharp intake of breath, “you’d still want to?”

“Of course.”

“Then yes, whenever.”

“Ok,” he said softly, grinning, “I’ll text you.”

“Yeah,” a pause, then, “oh and Slasher, you don’t _look_ like a serial killer at all.” Slash laughed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why thank you, Axl.”

“That’s the catch; serial killers look just like everyone else. It’s how they blend in.” Slash spluttered as the dial tone sounded in his ear. _The cheeky little minx._

James threw the guitarist a disdainful glance, “I don’t know where you learned to do _that **-**_ whatever that was, but it wasn’t from me or your mum.”

Slash winced, curls flying as he shook his head in awe, “I’m not _always_ this... horrible.”

James smiled knowingly, “I know.”

The brunette pondered the meaning of that for the rest of the drive to Myles’ house.

\-----------------------------

A week after the date incident, it happened. It was just a regular Sunday; the apartment was a lot cooler than usual, since Axl had used some of his earnings to replace the shitty AC.

Duff was digging into his Chinese takeout while Axl was texting Slash- he was doing that way more often recently, between his performances.

Duff rose from the couch to get some OJ to compliment his meal. He of course returned with the whole carton turned to his head, one arm poised on a slim hip. The redhead had lowered the phone and was staring seemingly into space. His lips moved silently a few times before he raised his head and looked directly into Duff’s eyes.

“My dad fucked me.”

The carton of OJ crashed to the floor, spilling its contents. The blonde broke into a coughing fit, trying to clear his airway of the liquid.

“Axl. Uhm, What are y-?” he managed, weakly.

“My dad fucked me, when I was a kid.” He repeated voice toneless, expression blank.

Duff stared at the kid, at a complete loss. He carefully avoided the spilt beverage as he made his way over to the couch. He sat next to Axl in silence.

“You said I should talk about things. So I am.” He said, voice still eerily toneless. “It’s ok though, Ma got to me before he could do it again.”

Duff sighed, “Princess.” He reached over and pulled the redhead into a hug, “he can’t hurt you anymore.” No words could possibly explain what he was feeling; he was pissed, but mostly devastated that someone could do such a thing to a fucking child.

Axl snorted, “I know. He’s dead.” Duff nodded, rocking him back and forth gently. The redhead was pleased he didn’t offer any condolences for the scumbag; he got just what he deserved. “My name’s William, like his was, I changed it because, because...” _because I didn’t want to be associated with him. But I’m turning out just like him, aren’t I?_

He really didn’t mean to cry, hadn’t planned to when he decided to breach the subject, but soon he was burying his face in Duff’s shoulder and wailing pitifully.  “I don’t want to be like him. They keep saying I’m like him, that I look and sound just like him.”

“You’re nothing like him.”

“I’m a failure.”

The blonde held him away to make eye contact, “How? You’re just twenty-one; just a kid and you’ve got a rapidly growing fan base and a decent paying job. In no time you’ll be famous as fuck, and you’re an amazing human being and not some sick piece of shit. How exactly did you fail again?”

He smiled blearily though his tears, taking in a shuddering breath before replying, “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Will it get you to make us dinner?” he joked, poking at one splotchy cheek.

Axl swiped at his tears, sighing heavily, “You only love me for my cooking skills, and that says a lot ‘cause I suck.”

“You do, but you’re better than me.”

“Everyone is.”

He opened his mouth to reply, then, after several seconds of silence pursed his lips. “I actually have no counter for that.”

Axl nodded sagely, “It’s to be expected, many are speechless in my presence.” He rose from the couch and stared at the sticky mess on the tiles, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll make dinner; you clean up your spillage.”

Duff winced, “Yeah, good idea.”

“Hey man. Listen, thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he muttered, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “You’re doing... fine.”

“Fine?” he scoffed, flipping his red hair cockily, “I’m doing great. I’m _me_ after all.” He scampered away before Duff could attempt to strangle him.

He felt better, if he was honest with himself. He wasn’t magically cured, but his steps sure felt a little bit lighter for the remainder of the day.

\----------------------------------

Slash smiled as he stole a peek at his phone screen under the table. Axl had sent him a picture from work of the large crowd that had showed up to watch him perform earlier.  It was attached to the message: _“How cool is this shit?”_

He quickly typed a reply

 **Slash:** _Not as cool as the tea party I’m having right now_

“I want to meet her.” Ola chirped, eyeing the young man across from her as he jumped and hastily lowered his phone.

Slash cleared his throat nervously, “Meet who?”

“The girl who’s got you smiling at your phone.” She replied, rolling her eyes at his antics. “You think I’m dumb don’t you?” She watched as color bled into his cheeks and she grinned cheekily.

Slash sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. “There is no girl, mother.” _And, ok that wasn’t completely a lie. She’ll forget about it, hopefully._

He watched as her dark eyes lit up with glee and mentally crossed her forgetting about it from his list. _Well, fuck_. “It’s a _boy_ , isn’t it?” _Why did she make it sound like Christmas or something?_

The brunette focused on stirring his chai tea and silently avoiding the question. “So, how’s dad?”

Ola squealed happily, “It is?! Oh my, I’ve gotta meet him!” Slash couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face even if he wanted to.

“Why are you so excited about him?” he asked, genuinely curious. She usually treated his dates wearily, suspicious of their true intentions towards him. He was endlessly thankful for it, he was the type to dive into love headfirst, and that usually ended badly- as the gossip columns liked to remind him.

“Because Perla was a bitch.” She said calmly, smile still firmly in place. She gracefully raised her tea cup to her lips and sipped. “And I want you to be happy with someone, who’s not a bitch.”

The guitarist sighed, “Well, not gonna argue there.”

“Good.” She said curtly, her hand went to her large afro, patting it adoringly. Arguing with his mother would be a lost cause anyway; you don’t argue with African parents and hope to win anything but a whooping- he’d learnt that the hard way in his teen years. “So, invite him over. Does he live in LA? Can he come right now? How do I look?”

He giggled, reaching across the table for her hand. “You look lovely, as usual. Yes, he lives in LA, but he has to work tonight so he can’t come over. And yes, you can meet him, if he even still wants to... uhm. Yeah.” He trailed off uncertainly, would Axl even want to meet up again?

She squeezed his hand affectionately. “Honey, you sure do know how to flatter and old woman, you Hudson men are all the same. But sweetie what’s wrong? What’s this about you messing up?”

Slash found himself recounting last Sunday’s events, wincing when he retold the stupid math joke. “Ma, it wasn’t even funny.” Ola chuckled warmly, patting his hand in sympathy.  “I ruined it, with one sentence, and he might not want to see me again.”

“Well Saul, did you ask him?” She had firmly refused to refer to him as Slash when they weren’t in public. He’d bitched about it for a while, since he thought Slash was a way cooler name (obviously, since he picked it out himself), but eventually got around to accepting it. Well, “accepting it” was one way to put it, Oda was not to be messed with; she threatened to smack him over the head until he stopped whining about it.

“Well, ye-”

“What’d he say?”

“He said yes, but what if-”

“Then he’ll see you again.” She concluded, sipping the last of her tea. How she was so confident about it, he didn’t know. “And I’ll help you out; ask if he can visit tomorrow, you can treat us both to dinner?”

Slash grabbed his phone to check.

Axl: _Literally, a tea party? Is that a metaphor for a stripper party? Not an actual tea party, is it?_

He chuckled and aimed his camera at his mom across from him, who was delicately stroking the handle of her tea cup. “Say cheese.” She started a little when the camera flashed, almost smacking the teacup to the side.

“Huh? What, wait! I wasn’t ready yet!” she protested, “Young man, you had better take a better one.” The brunette grinned and acquiesced, snapping another one.

“There, Jeez.” She tossed her napkin at his head.

He attached it to his message.

Slash: No, tea party, with mom, at her place.

Axl: Whoa, dude, your mom is hot. Hey, isn’t her afro cooler than yours? Tell her I like her china.

Slash: Don’t. Even. Start. Anyway, are you free tomorrow? She wants to meet you.

Axl: Yeah, sure. I’m free. Tell her I said hello.

“What’s he saying?” she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

“He says, you’re ho-... er... Pretty, and that yes, he’ll come to mine tomorrow.” He replied, flashing her a blinding smile. “He also says nice china.”

 Dark eyes narrowed in suspicion, “hmmm, is that all he said?”

“He also said your afro is cooler than mine.” He said, sighing theatrically, “There, you win.”

She clapped gleefully, doing a little jig. “Yes! I knew it, they all think that.”

“Whatever.” He huffed, downing his now cold tea in a few gulps.

“Watch your tone, young man.” She teased, reaching over to yank at his afro.

He rolled his eyes, but complied. “Whatever, Ma.”

He didn’t even dodge the spoon she tossed at him; he was too giddy to care. He was gonna see Axl tomorrow, and that’s all that mattered.

\----------------------------------------

 He was freaking out.

He was freaking out and his flat mate was having way too much fun laughing at him while he did.

“It’s not funny, shit-for-brains!” he whined, glaring angrily at the blonde perched on the worn couch, “he wants me to meet his mom, what if I screw up?”

“When’s the wedding?” he wasn’t quick enough to evade Axl’s tackle. The redhead pinned his arms to the couch and straddled him, grinning maliciously.

“I’m going to strangle you.”

Duff snorted, easily escaping the vocalist’s hold, “I’m bigger than you, and stronger than you. You couldn’t strangle me if you tried.”

“Well... I can smother you at least.” He pronounced, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over the blonde’s face. “Die you heathen!” he screeched with laughter, trying to dodge Duff’s slaps. A knock outside their apartment interrupted his attempted asphyxiation. He sprung quickly from his position, widening his eyes at Duff in a silent  _do something_ gesture.

The blonde rolled his eyes, “Be there in a sec.” He waved Axl towards the door as he whispered, “Go open it.”

“You do it!” he snapped, frantically running his fingers through his wild murder- hair, “How do I look?”

“Like the murdering piece of shit you are.” He replied easily, “I’ll answer the door, it’s time I meet this fucker anyway.”

That statement brought Axl to an abrupt halt, his blue eyes widened in fear, “Duff, don’t fucking traumatize him, ya hear?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say traumatize...” he teased as he sauntered to the door; he swung it open and came face to face with Slash.

 All curly haired, dark skinned and cool confidence.

What the fuck?

“Hello, you must be Duff.” He said, smiling pleasantly, “I’m here for Axl-”

Duff slammed the door.

In his face.

Without a word.

“Duff, what the fuck?” Axl hissed from his room, “Why am I hearing the door slam?”

He took as deep shuddering breath, counted to ten-slowly- and opened it again.

Yup. He was still there.

The brunette was just blinking, perplexed. “Uhm... did I get the wrong-”

“No, no, no. You’re here. This is... er, here.” He babbled, waving him in enthusiastically. “I just didn’t expect you so soon, er... Axl’s getting ready. Just, you can sit here; I’ll go get him for you.”

Slash nodded and sprawled comfortably on the couch, “Cool.” He wondered if this was the same guy who threatened to castrate him, he seemed like a cool guy.

Duff burst into Axl’s room, face flaming red, “You little shit!”

“Uhm....”

“You’re fucking Slash?” he asked, trying desperately to stay calm, “ _why_ is there a rockstar in our living room?”

Axl’s cheeks flamed, “lower your damn voice, we’re not fucking, ok.” _Not yet_

“But you’re _dating_ Slash?” He asked.

The redhead pulled on a leather jacket, and made a face. “Yes. You’ve known this for a while.”

Duff groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He enunciated slowly, “Why, Yes Axl. I knew you were dating _A_ Slash, but you didn’t tell me you were dating _THE_ Slash, the _fucking_ rock star. The fucking _world famous_ guitarist.”

Axl tilted his head, peering curiously at his friend, “Well, I told you he was a musician. What’s your poi- Oh? He’s ** _\- oh_**.”  Well, that explained the house... and the limo... and the not wanting to be seen in public thing.

Oh.

He’s famous.

Well. Good for him.

That wasn’t helping his nerves.

He couldn’t help laughing at the redhead’s expression, “Oh my God... you didn’t fucking know, did you? You still have no idea who I’m talking about.”

“Er... I’m happy for his success?” he said, pulling his hair back into a ponytail. So he was a rock star, he didn’t see what the big deal was; it was actually rather cool. Duff threw up his hands in defeat.

“Country boy, you don’t even know who you’re little boyfriend is-” he sighed, “whatever, just go alright.”

The redhead huffed, and went out to meet his date.

The guitarist stood when Axl entered the room, plush lips spreading in that familiar fond smile, “Rosie.”

He might have stumbled a little. Over air. He could hear Duff snickering softly from behind him.

“Hey, Slash.” He murmured, “you look...good.” _Real eloquent._

The brunette grinned cheekily, “I dunno man, you don’t sound sure.” Axl rolled his eyes, this constant teasing he could deal with.

His sassy reply was cut off when Slash pulled him into a hug. Axl was tense at first, but as soon as the surprise wore off, his body seemed to melt into Slash’s. This was good. He could get used to this. The redhead snuggled closer to the welcoming heat, closing his eyes and just giving himself over to it.

“It’s good to see you, you look great.” Slash muttered into Axl’s hair, and fuck, he had wanted to hold him since the first time he saw him. And he meant it, he looked great; the last time they were face to face Axl had left in tears. Seeing the redhead grinning up at him, blue eyes sparkling,had been too much to resist.

“Ehem.”

The men separated quickly, looking like guilty children.

“I’m hurt; you never hug _me_ like that!” Duff exclaimed, clutching his chest.

“Because I hate you, come on Slasher.”Axl replied, shooting Duff a warning glance.

“Have fun guys,” Duff chirped, “Oh, Slash, if he doesn’t come back safely, I’ll keep my promise.” The blonde’s smile was still very much in place, and if that didn’t make the threat ten times more terrifying, Slash wasn’t sure what did.

Axl didn’t seem very worried.

“It’s ok, he’s just the secondary threat.” He said, pulling the door shut behind them. He could think of at least one more person who would be livid if anything were to happen to him.

“Then who’s the primary one?” Slash asked, matching Axl’s stride.

The redhead turned to him with a sweet smile, “Me.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs to behold Ola's magnificent Hairdo :)  
> #Slay

Ola Hudson arrived at the mansion with much fanfare, swooping over to kiss James on his cheeks.

"It's been too long James," she said, "I don't know how you manage to put up with that son of mine."

Slash rolled his eyes, "I heard that..." 

"Of course you did, dear. You're right next to me."

 Axl approached her warily, intimidated by her overwhelmingly enthusiastic personality. Slash smiled fondly at her.

“Mother, I could hear you even if you were two rooms away,” he teased, laughing when she smacked him softly on the arm.

“So what? I bring the noise,” she chirped, glancing at the young man who was peering around her son’s frame, “and who’s this?”

She stalked towards him, watching amused as he seemed to be doing his best to shrink. “Hello.”

“M’aam.” He was still peering at her as if he expected her to pounce at any moment. Which she probably would by the way she was staring at him as if her were the cutest thing.

_Oh._

_He has a Midwestern drawl._

She eyed him in silence; he was quite a curious one. His shiny red hair- _a_ _redhead, what a treat!_ \- was pulled back in a ponytail and loose strands of his hair were scattered across his forehead. Blue eyes were observing her every move and his cheeks were flushed- _was he shy?_ She smiled a little when she noticed he was absently clutching Slash’s shirt. _Cute._ Plush lips mirrored her smile and he straightened up a little and met her eyes.

“I love your hair,” he said, barely audible, but it was a start.

She decided not to attack him with hugs the way she wanted to.

“I know, dear, they all do.” She shot Slash a smug look, thrilling when she heard Axl laughing. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

“Sellout.” He hissed, poking the redhead’s side.

“Sorry to interrupt,” James announced, reappearing seemingly out of thin air, “but dinner is ready.”

Slash led the way to the dining room, while Ola hung back to chatter about random things with Axl. The redhead was warming up to her by the minute, laughing at the embarrassing stories she told him about young Slash and his pet lizard.

By the time they sat down to dinner, the two were as close as can be. Slash watched, pleased, though a bit embarrassed, as Ola revealed a stunt he pulled at age 10.

“He carried his snake to church?” the vocalist gasped between breaths. The guitarist face flamed, Ola pat his cheek fondly.

She nods, taking a sip of her wine. “He did, brought the ceremony to a standstill too,” she added, “the snake slithered over Sister Pamella’s shoe. She jumped up shrieking right in the middle of the Lord’s Prayer.”

“Alright, Ma.” The brunette groused, pushing his food around, “he wouldn’t have hurt her anyway, she scared him.”

Axl smiled, _of course he’d be thinking of the snake’s safety over all else._

Ola watched as Axl’s expression go soft when he glanced at Slash and did a little jig in her head. “So, what do you sweetie?”

“I sing,” he replied, “at Michelle’s.”

“Oh, Slash used to work with her. She’s a darling.” She smiled at him, “she only hires the best.”

Axl told him of his recent success, the club had been seeing a lot of new faces. He had also gained the attention of some reporters and agents who liked their sound.

She beamed at him, “Your mama must be so proud, you’re doing well.”

The redhead’s smile waned, “Actually, we don’t...er, talk much.”

“Well heavens, why not?”

He shrugged weakly, avoiding eye contact, “It’s not, I don’t know.. _.”_ He trails off, _because she was almost as bad as Stephen, and I had to leave her behind._

She glanced quickly at Slash for direction, he shrugged, she’d have to figure that one out on her own.

“Oh... well, _I’m_ proud of you Axl,” she said gently, rising from her seat to embrace him- _finally_. He tensed a bit before he finally relaxed, soaking up the comfort she was offering. _Damn, did everyone in this family give magical healing hugs?_ She smelled like all the good things in existence, like cookies and Christmas and rainbows? “You must tell me all about what happens next time.”

“Yes M’aam,” and he would, she was a great listener. He couldn’t help feeling a bit proud of himself too.

Slash watched them silently, feeling affection for them both tightening his chest. It seemed like Ola approved of him, and that was all he could ask for.

\----------------------

Duff paced their apartment, waiting “patiently” for that redheaded minx to get home so he could throttle him.

“Slash. In our _living room_ , Steven!” He whined, bristling when the drummer started chuckling. “It’s not funny; I wasn’t dressed for a celebrity!”

 “Ok Duff McWhiney-pants,” Steven teased, sitting Indian-style on the couch, “calm down, he didn’t know.”

“How? How did he not recognize a celebrity?” He flicked the television to MTV, “see? On every fucking channel!” He gestured wildly at the TV, where, sure enough they were replaying a recent interview with the guitarist.

He was chattering animatedly about their upcoming album as the interviewer giggled, charmed to be sitting so close to him.

“There are only so many people with god-like afros and an obsession with snakes,” the bassist drawled, plopping on the couch next to Steven. “I slammed the door in his face.”

Steven cackled, “You what?”

Duff groaned, crushing a cushion over his face, “Shut your face!”

“You slammed the door on one of the greatest guitarists of all time?”

“I believe I did.”

The drummer needled the rest of the story out of him, showering his face with light kisses between giggles.

“Hey, look on the bright side.” He chirped, “He might write a song about you.”

Duff believed the little blonde shit completely deserved every smack he got.

\---------------------------

“So?”

Axl looked up from a picture of young Slash that was resting on his lap, “Oh sorry abou-” He had wondered around the living room when the guitarist had went to see Ola out. His eyes lighted on an adorable picture of Slash and his lizard, he couldn’t resist a closer look.

“It’s ok man, mom already destroyed my cool reputation with her stories.” He joked, sitting next to Axl on the couch, “ So she didn’t scare you much, did she?”

“She’s a sweetheart.”

The guitarist huffed an amused breath, eyeing Axl, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Axl’s cheeks flushed, he had been caught. “Well... Er... She’s a bit overwhelming at first,” he said, tracing the edges of the picture frame. Truth be told, he had been frightened of her, Ola seemed to fill an entire room and she was a very tactile person. He usually hated being touched by strangers. “She’s pretty cool though, I like her.”

Slash nodded in sympathy, “Yeah, she can be a bit much at times but, what can ya do?”

“So, you had a pet lizard?”

“His name was Steve,” he said, grinning fondly at the picture, “I used to scare the girls in my class with him.”

“You were quite the little shit weren’t you?”

“Still am.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Axl teased, warming up to the topic.

The two bantered on for quite a while, Slash even coaxed a bit of information about Axl’s childhood from him. The redhead confessed his odd obsession with Elvis in his teen years, and the pranks he used to play on his stepfather.

“You Liked Elvis?” the brunette asked is shock.

“If I’m being completely honest here,” he replied, “I had a hell of a crush on the king of Rock.”

“Oh my God.”

“What? Everyone has a crush on Elvis.”

“Every little _girl_ , Axl. Like teenagers or something, once their older they-” Slash shot back, cackling when Axl’s face heated further. “Oh my God, you _still_ do, don’t you?”

His silence just confirmed it.

“This is fucking rich.”

“I swear to God, if you don’t shut the fuck up...”

“What’ll you do?” he taunted, pressing himself to Axl’s side, “Summon Elvis to fight for you?”

In all honesty, he had not been planning to kiss Slash- well ok, he had- but not in response to that last quip. The redhead found himself leaning forward anyway, thrilling when he watched the brunette’s smug expression morph into one of want. He pressed his lips firmly against Slash’s and promptly forgot this was only supposed to be about shutting him up; all he knew was that Slash’s lips were heaven and this needed to continue for the rest of his fucking life and-

Air. He needed that, right?

He pulled away reluctantly, still close enough that their breaths mingled.

He needed to do that thing where you think and stuff.

There was a firm hand on the back of his neck tugging him back into an even deeper kiss and _of course_ such petty things as breathing and thinking could wait till later, right? Slash’s tongue was rearranging all manner of things in his head. Axl raised his trembling hands on Slash’s chest, twice as excited when he felt the guitarist’s rapid heartbeat against his palm.

Slash moaned when Axl slipped his hand under his shirt, trailing it up across his abs and to-

“Ehem.” James coughed delicately, pointedly avoiding staring at the two men tangled together on the sofa.

They broke apart quickly, Axl making an odd squeaking sound and basically scuttling to the other end of the couch. Slash, on the other hand, seemed completely dazed, and was blinking perplexed- _why were they stopping?_

“Should I be making preparations for Mr. Rose to stay tonight?” He desperately tried to hold back his laughter as Slash just stared at him for a while, struggling to rediscover his vocabulary.

“Uh... no?” Slash glanced at the redhead for confirmation, “I have to get him home or I’ll end up castrated apparently.”

Axl was doing his very best to disappear into the couch, a cushion was placed conspicuously on his lap and his cheeks were flushed red. His voice didn’t work on the first try, he had to clear his throat and start again. “Yeah, it is kinda late and I haven’t called...”

The older man nods, eyes glittering with repressed laughter, “I’ll prepare the car then.” His brisk footsteps echoed as he left the room.

“Well... that’s _one_ way to shut me up.”

Axl groaned, rolling his eyes as Slash chuckled “I didn’t mean to do that-”

The guitarist quirked a brow, “You didn’t mean to kiss me?”

“No. Wait, well, yes- uh- but I didn’t plan to jus-” the redhead stumbled over his words, cheeks burning brighter after every mistake.

Slash’s warm laughter cut him off, “Relax Rose, I understand. I was just teasing.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, forgot about you being a little shit.” He groused, easily dodging the cushion that came sailing through the air at him. He had been through this shit too many times with Duff to get caught by that.

The brunette whistled, impressed. “Smooth moves.”

“Thanks, it comes with practice.”

They sat there quietly, staring each other down, Axl fidgeting every now on then; dying to shove a hand into his pants and jus-

Slash tilted his head, smirking in a way that just spelt bad news for Axl. “You should probably take care of that. Unless, you want me to call James off.”

“I want to _snap_ your neck.”

He held up his hands in a calming gesture, “Woah man, there can only be one serial killer in this relationship.” The redhead grinned, rising from the couch when James begun to honk.

“Serial killers are supposed to be less talk-y...”

Slash rose too, smiling in that totally-no good way again that _totally_ did _not_ affect Axl in anyway whatsoever. “You can try to _make_ me.” The challenge hung there in the air between them, filling it with electricity. The guitarist sauntered across the open space, dark eyes trained on Axl’s blue ones. And ok, maybe shutting him up one more time wouldn’t hurt.

The second kiss was more devastating that the first, having Slash’s full body pressed against his- even through two layers of clothing- was sending waves of arousal through him. A large hand closed on his waist, tugging him impossibly closer. He could feel Slash’s dick pressing against him, and suddenly getting home didn’t seem like such a big deal. He began to grind against that heat, letting out small breathless whimpers that the guitarist quickly swallowed; when those large hands gripped his ass, he pulled away, head thrown back in a heartfelt moan.

Staying was a thing that could _definitely_ happen, because he needed to get off since yesterday and surely Duff wouldn’t mind it _much_.

“Oh shit, James is waiting.” Slash’s voice was breathy and even softer than usual; he reluctantly released his hold on Axl, smirking when the vocalist whined in protest.

“Whuh?”

“Outside.” He murmured, leading Axl buy the hand to the front door, “I’d rather not be castrated, thank you.”

He snickered when he saw Axl adjust himself, earning a half-hearted glare in the process.

“ _You_... you evil sunova-”

A soft kiss on the cheek cut him off, “Text me about how pissed you are when you get home. Night Rose, this was fun.”

He smiled despite himself, ridiculously charmed by the kiss. “Yeah, whatever.” The next part of this challenge included steeling himself to face James- this was his life now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys, bad news. I'm in Florida and I left my lappy by accident back home D: so i have to be struggling to rewrite the chapters- on someone's lappy- and that sucks, cause i can only use it for a short time.  
> Good News? I might see GnR in Orlando in a few days :D AHA yeahhhhhhh  
> I'm sorry about the delay- and about how short this is :{ bear with me.

"Don't even think of it," Axl snapped, shutting Duff down before he even begun to form a sentence. He continued pushing his way through the crowd- they were fresh off the stage and the crowd was extra rowdy tonight.

"What're you talkin' about?" Duff asked, almost shouting over the din of the club.

The redhead stopped walking abruptly, whipping around to scowl at the blond. "Don't act like you weren't about to bitch at me about Slash." He shot a hateful look at one patron who brushed him a little to closely; the man flinched and scuttled away without a backward glance.

"Well, it is Slash of all people. You _sure_ you know what you're getting into?"

Axl rolled his eyes, "i told you, i don't see that making any difference at all-"

"-Will you just google him at least?" His emerald eyes were filled with concern, "I don't want you getting into shit you cant deal with."

The vocalist considered it for a while before relenting with a sigh, "Ok fine, I will, but this still wont change anything."

He couldn't have been more wrong.

\---------------

Slash answered the phone after the third ring, holding it in the junction of his shoulder while toweling his hair dry.  

"Hey Ma," he said, pausing his ministrations to pace the room and prepare himself for the news. "What's up?"

"It's  about Axl, dear." Well of course it was, he was surprised it took her two days to call and give her 'review'- in a manner of speaking.

"Uhn-huhn."

"Well, i think he's a darling of course," she begun, "we got on like a house on fire- and he's quite a looker."

The brunette grinned, "Isn't he?"

She rambled on about his good manners, charm _'and that cute accent of his'_ , but Slash could tell she was holding back something. "Mom, what is it?"

"It's just that...I feel he's a bit...er, troubled." she concluded, "he comes off as a bit, sad?"

"Is that a question, or...?" Slash knew exactly what she meant, he hid it well, there was a certain sadness in his eyes, even when he smiled. 

"Saul." she chided, annoyed by how lightly he was taking this perhaps.

He sighed, staring up at his ceiling, "I guess, but we all have problems. We both know I do." He was no walk in the park either; his stints with hard drugs, bar fights and his not-so-nice temper came to mind. No to mention the promiscuity- Ola had always suspected, but she never brought it up.

She sighed, "Yes, I know, just talk to him OK?" she paused for a while before adding, "He's either really good at acting or actually clueless, he seems not to know certain things about... you both need to talk." Slash winced, Ola had mentioned something about his most recent MTV award, and the kid had just stared blankly at her before she opted to change the subject.

"OK, we will."

"Of course you will," she chirped, sunny mood returning. "Don't think i missed the looks you were tossing at each other."

"Ughh, Ma," he could feel his cheeks heating rapidly. "We were-"

"Oh yes you were," she said gleefully, "I swear, if I wasn't in the room, you two would be all ov-"

"-Okloveyou, bye." 

\---------------------

 _It wont make a difference,_ he said.

 _It's not that big a deal,_ he said.

"Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?" he said,voice edging into whine territory.

He scrolled through page after page of fan sites, blogs, wiki, interviews; his jaw hanging lower and lower after each click.

**'Slash has received critical acclaim as a guitarist. _[Time](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_\(magazine\))_ named him runner-up on their list of "The 10 Best Electric Guitar Players" in 2009, while _[Rolling Stone](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rolling_Stone)_ placed him at No. 65 on their list of "The 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time" in 2011'**

Holy shit, he was dating a legend- and as much as he hated to admit it- Duff was right. 

Bringing up YouTube, he quickly typed 'Slash' into the search bar and came across videos with millions of views- and ok- HOW DID HE NOT KNOW THIS GUY?

" _Anastasia_ , huh?" 

He groped around in the darkness for his earphones and settled in to listen. He was entranced, from the first note in the intro to the final note; every pause, every word and that Myles guy wasn't too shabby either.

"He kinda has a range like mine," he murmured, "but i'm better of course." _And modest too._

Then he replayed it.

Again.

And OK, maybe a third-forth time, he lost count. 

Then he found the acoustic version, and played it over and over again. So that's how he spent the night, going through Album after Album- _that World on Fire one was quite good_ \- and somehow found himself scrolling through google images and practically drooling. 

That's how he came across this Perla character, and promptly choked on air. 

Ex-wife.

She was his Ex-wife. Nothing could stop the jealousy that rose up quickly inside him, which became replaced by anger just as quickly. 

_He didn't mention he was fucking married!_

_'And you didn't tell him about Jeff,_ " his mind supplied, _"or your dear old dad Will, or Ste-'_

Flinching, he acquiesced. "Yeah, fair enough." Besides, from what he was reading, that Perla character sounded like a bitch- she got a hefty sum of money from the split too, and proceeded to reveal intimate things about Saul to anyone who would listen.

Axl sighed and closed the tab, reaching for his phone and scouting iTunes for more music from Slash, he'd rather let Slash reveal whatever he wanted to in time.

Besides, it was almost ten minutes since he last listened _Anastasia_.

\--------------

Duff entered Axl's room the next day practically beaming- the blond little shit was basically glowing with that smug look on his face.

"So, ready to admit I was right?"

The redhead really hoped his glare spoke for him.

The bassist grinned wider, flopping unto the bed gracelessly. "I will take that as a yes."

"Please get outta my room."

"Nooooooooooope. So have you called him yet?" he asked, "Or are you just sitting here overthinking?" And fuck, he hit the nail right on the head.

"Shut up, i'm not doing that stuff." And he wasn't, well not completely. He spent half of the day writing songs after that surge of inspiration he felt from listening to Slash all night; and alright, in part, totally freaking out.

He quirked a perfectly groomed brow at Axl who was, again, in burrito formation. "Really? Cause that's your 'I'm freaking out' formation." Again, that was spot on. Axl couldn't explain it, but there was something calming about being wrapped in his blanket.

"Uhh..."

"Uhh?"

"See, this is why I'm gonna poison your food." He snapped, wiggling out of his blankets. "I'm not freaking out, it's just... why me? I mean he could more or less have anyone."

Duff sighed theatrically, "But for some reason, he likes the ginger diva- which is you by the way.

"I'm not a diva." Axl whined, tossing his notepad at the blond- it landed on his chest with an audible thunk, "i'm just... selective."

Duff didn't bother with a reply, instead he skipped through the notepad, eyebrows rising with every turn of a page. "You write?"

"Hey put that down!" he cried, scrabbling to reach for the book. Duff retreated from the bed quickly, a devilish grin transforming his face.

"Ooooh, is this a diary?" he cooed, bouncing  on his toes. "Are there love poems to Slaaaaaash?"

"You little shi-" One wild grab for the book later saw them chasing each other around the apartment, Duff trying his best to read while jogging.

"Hey, these are pretty good," he mumbled, stopping abruptly, causing  the redhead to bump into him. "No seriously, can we perform these?"

Axl blinked, perplexed, "Really?"

"Yeah, really." he said, voice filled with awe and excitement. "We should get to Michelle's, try to work out something with the band."

"Yeah?" 

"That's what I said," he said mockingly, "lets go see the guys- its early, they might still be there."

\--------------

 

"This is great," Michelle exclaimed, lowering the notepad and smiling. "can the guys learn at least two for the weekend show?"

Axl glanced around the room as the guys nodded in agreement, "Yeah, i have the notes for some. But for the others..."

I have a friend I can call to help you guys with the composition." 

And that's how he found himself sitting awkwardly in Michelle's office across from Slash, who was perched comfortably on her desk. 

"Slash this is Axl," she mumbled around her cigar, waving a hand in his direction. "And this, is Slash, you might know him from TV."

_From TV...er Yeah, right._

He raised a brow at the guitarist who was grinning like mad, "Uh, Hi." The fucker was enjoying this too much, and he couldn't sass him in Michelle's presence- that would bring up unwanted questions.

"Hello Axl," he basically purred. "Nice to meet you." Duff coughed to cover up a snicker- real great friend he had there.

"Yeah, pleasure." He said through clenched teeth, Slash had the gall to outright laugh at him. The urge to punch him- with his lips, softly- increased tenfold.

"Uhh...ok," Michelle's voice was uncertain as she glanced from one to the other, "Slash, see what you can work out, later boys."

That left just the six of them, sitting in silence, quickly broken by a squealing Steven."

"Mr. Slash, It's such an honor to work with you!" The drummer's eyes were practically sparkling, "I'm a big fan."

Duff was sulking in the corner,muttering to himself. "He really isn't that great."

Slash's smiled warmly, "Hey, nice to meet you uhm..."

"Steven." he supplied eagerly, shooting a reproving glance at Duff.

"Steven, hey. You're our drummer?" he asked, charming turned on to maximum power apparently, the guys were all starry-eyed; All except Duff and Axl of course. 

"Yeah-" 

"-Can we start now please?" The redhead snapped, tossing his notepad at Slash. The older man caught it easily, struggling to hold back his laughter. 

"Ok Missie, lets see what you got."

\---------------

They worked all night, and for once, Slash wasn't annoyed about working on a free day. This didn't feel like work- it was just fun.

Axl was amazing, the guys were amazing and he felt at home-He could watch the redhead sing all day. He was like... like...

"Magic." 

The redhead paused mid-note, "What?"

"You're like magic." he repeated, awestruck. The room quieted, Duff raised an eyebrow at the two as Axl's cheeks heated. 

"I- uh... thanks?" he stuttered, "You're not so bad yourself." 

The band's laughter echoed around the room, only Axl would sass a celebrity."

"So will you play with us on Saturday?" Steven asked hopefully, "I mean, you know all the notes already."

"I uh... " he glanced at Axl for approval. "Who's in charge?" Everyone glanced at the redhead, he rolled his eyes.

"Michelle." He replied. 

"You are, loser." Duff shot back, "Don't try to pass this off on Michelle."

Slash was giving him the most ridiculous puppy eyes, "No. You can't sit with us." 

"Hey, c'mon, he can play in my stead." Jamie- the lead- offered, "He's much better anyway."

The others mumbled in agreement, all flashing their own pairs of puppy eyes. "OK, fine. You win, you can stay." He acquiesced, rolling his eyes at the cheers that went up. 

The guitarist grinned, "I'm glad i have your permission, though you couldn't have gotten rid of me anyway.'

"So, we perform 'Don't Cry' and 'It's so Easy' on Saturday?" Duff asked.

"Sound's like a plan."

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *scream* I'm sorrrry, so sorry, I was busy with some stuff, and then writer's block.  
> But I'm back, and i'm super sorry if this sucks. I stared at this chapter for probably a whole week without getting anywhere.  
> But I did it, and I'm almost done so... yay? *sighs*

It was 3am before they agreed they'd practiced for long enough. 

The parking lot was chilly and and damp from the light showers earlier, "So, how're we gonna get home?" Axl was shivering, glaring at Duff, "did you think about that?"

The blond barely spared him a glance, whispering and giggling with Steven. The redhead huffed in annoyance, they were like that through the whole practice once Steven had gotten over Slash's presence. Axl was seriously considering marching over to them and shoving them roughly apart when an amused voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Need a ride?" Slash swaggered out of the club, twirling his keys around his finger, expression even smugger than usual- if possible. 

"Nope." The vocalist snapped, to make up for all the times he couldn't sass him during recording. 

"Yeah we do." Duff insisted, finally pulling away from Steven long enough to take part in a conversation. "Got space for us?"

"Just you three? Sure." he motioned for them to follow him, stopping before a 1970 Cadillac. "Guys, this is Aileen, love of my life."

Axl blinked in awe, "no fucking way." He ran his hand along the sleek lines of the car, "What the shit, I've wanted one of these since i was a kid."

Duff whistled, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs. "She's beautiful." 

Slash flushed with pride, patting the bonnet fondly. "She is, isn't she. Shall we?"

"Fuck yes." Steven and Duff slid into the spacious back seat, admiring the interior. "Your boyfriend has good taste, Axl."

The redhead felt his cheeks heating as he slid into the front seat. "Shut up, or i'll make sure you walk home."

Slash laughed, pushing his curls back, "I have a feeling he actually meant that."

The car ran like a dream, the ride was mostly silent- filled only with the hum of the powerful engine. Axl fidgeted, going over conversation openers in his mind before settling on the most appropriate- which, of course, wasn't at all.

"So, I googled you earlier." Well, that's one way to bring it up. 

Slash's breath caught in his throat, "is that so? Find anything interesting?" He was pretty sure he should have told Axl about the whole "I'm famous" thing, but he had been basking in the enjoyment of knowing the kid wasn't after his money or fame.

The redhead rolled his eyes, reclining his seat just to make Duff uncomfortable. "Fishing for compliments are we?" He paused before speaking, voice barely above a whisper."Why didn't you tell me you were that good?"

Slash wasn't sure he heard that right, "uhm, sorry- what?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were that good?" He demanded, struggling to find words to describe what he felt. "You're so... so fucking unreal. Listening to your shit is like a trip." Even that didn't feel like enough, he could feel himself begin to flush with frustration. "You get me?" 

"Uhhh... Yeah? Yeah." The guitarist was blinking rapidly, a bit confused but getting the general idea. Axl thought he was _good_ at his job. Damn that felt good. "Thanks, man. You're something yourself." 

The redhead snorted but decided against replying, reaching for Slash's hand and pulling it towards him before he could talk himself out of it. Without a second thought he placed a string of gentle kisses across his fingers- Slash's eyes darted frantically between Axl and the road, heart hammering in his chest. All his senses were demanding he take in the beautiful man before him, admire the curl of the kid's long lashes against his pale cheeks and focus on nothing else. Keeping his eyes on the road was probably a smarter idea though. He fought the urge to just pull over on some curb, tug Axl into his lap and kiss him senseless.

"Oi! There are other passengers in here," Duff cut in, eyebrows quirked in amusement, "so please don't cause your boyfriend to crash because of your weird hand blowjob." 

Annoyed, Axl quickly released Slash's hand and turned to glare at his flatmate, "You know, if we didn't split the rent, I would've killed you already." The blonde rolled his eyes, slipping an arm around Steven's waist; they both knew that threat was an empty one. 

"I'm just sayin' man, don't kill _my_ man." Steven couldn't hold in his giggles, laughing even as Duff's lips descended on his. Axl watched, intrigued, as the bassist slipped his tongue lightening quick into his partner's mouth. He froze there, twisted at an uncomfortable angle, listening to Duff's low rumbles and Steven's soft moans- and ok, maybe he was getting a _little_  hot. But who could blame him? They were two _very_ attractive men (not that he'd mention that to Duff), and he hadn't gotten laid in forever (by his standards) and he felt like if he got anymore frustrated he would blow the fuck up. 

"You ok there, man?" Slash's soft voice cut through his muddled thoughts. 

"Uhn-huhn," he mumbled, righting himself in his seat. "Pull over, we're kicking them out." The brunette's laugh was a dark rumble, he sneaked a quick glance at the men in the back then back at Axl.

"Hmm... I see."

"See what?" The redhead tried for a light tone, and failed horribly. Slash just laughed harder as he complied, feeding off the annoyance Axl was practically radiating next to him.

Breathing deeply, Axl attempted to block out Slash. "Oi! You two, out."

Duff glanced up, hair askew, breathing hard. "Why? You were clearly enjoying the show..." Slash made a strangled sound he quickly tried to stifle.

He ground his teeth together and counted to ten in his head.

“You should probably get walking, shouldn’t you?” he hissed, the bassist just grinned, opening the door and stepping out quickly. “Thanks for the ride Slash,” he said, “it was fun.”

His gaze lingered on Axl, “I needed the fresh air anyway, you were being so lovey-dovey, I would have suffocated from over-exposure.” He left before Axl could come up with a reply- the whole murder thing was looking like a better idea with each passing second.

“You’re really making them walk?” Slash asked, voice tinged with amusement. The redhead snorted, watching the blondes in the rearview mirror- they were pressed tightly together, giggling at something one of them said. The height difference was really quite adorable; he could feel himself smiling before he could stop it. “It’s literally two houses away from our apartment, we’re basically home already.”

Sure enough, in no time Slash was backing into an empty parking space, allowing the motor to run as they both sat there in silence.

“Thanks for the ride...” Axl begun, fingers tapping away nervously at his thighs. “Eileen is quite a sight to behold.

The brunette chuckled, fixing his intense gaze on Axl, “No problem, you guys provided entertainment.” He hesitated before continuing, “I think there might be stuff we need to talk about, but I see you already figured out half of it.”

He nodded, reclining the seat even further, “more like most of it.” Slash pressed his lips into a thin line, slowly coming to realize why Axl had kicked the others out. This would’ve been a very awkward conversation.

“The fucking gossip columns?” That was definitely not the way he wanted the kid to find, and if the articles his friends usually send to him are anything to go by, he would probably think the worst of him after just one.

Axl snorted, “More like Wiki and Tumblr.”

He was itching to ask ‘ _what the fuck is Tumblr? And what did you find?’_ but thought the better of it when he noticed blue eyes peering up at him, urging him to continue.

Slash sighed, reclining his seat and shuffling around in an attempt to get more comfortable- all the while, mentally planning how to explain this shit. They lay there in silence for a while, eyes locked on each other.

“So,” he tried, “I’m what some people would consider famous.” The silence stretched on for a second before they were both laughing hysterically.

“ _Some_ people?”  The redhead asked incredulously, “fucking bullshit.”

Slash shrugged, “pretty sure my mom’s still convinced I’m just a brat.”

“Oh no, she’s right about that.” He said drily, relaxing a lot more. “I don’t really give a shit about the famous part since you _technically_ told me you were a musician-though you left out that small detail- sneaky move by the way. But I get why.” He narrows his eyes at Slash who winced, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry; I’m just never sure with the people I date- are you in it for the money, or me? I’m tired of shit like that, ya know.” He muttered, hiding under his hair at this point, voice steadily getting softer. “And I don’t like using my fame to pick people up. Saying shit like ‘ _don’t you know who I am_ ’ is fucking arrogant.”

_He was gonna get cavities if Slash got any sweeter._

Axl waved it off, “I kinda figured that part out for myself, and it’s partially my fault for being so... country.” The guitarist finally met his eyes, lips curved in a smirk. “Yes, I admit it; I’m not really well-versed in today’s celebrities.”

“Understatement.” He interjected, “You have to pass a billboard with me on it every day to work.”

Blue eyes widened in shock, “really?” Because, this was getting ridiculous- how could he have missed that?

The guitarist couldn’t contain his laughter, “if anyone else asked that, I’d assume they were fucking with me.” He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on Axl’s cheek, “never change, kid.” He squirmed in his seat, smiling absently.

Axl was wondered if now that they sorted that out, he could bring up _other_ pressing matters. “So... you were married?” Again, 10/10 for appropriate conversation openers.

Slash’s smile dropped so quickly that Axl wanted to kick himself for bringing it up. “I’m-”

“-I wouldn’t call that a marriage.” He snapped, tone icy. “Lasted all of two months before it went to shit.”  Seeing Slash pissed off was probably the scariest thing Axl had ever seen, also the sexiest if he was being completely honest. He had sit up, back ramrod straight, arms folded over his chest calling attention to his biceps, dark eyes filled with anger. He should probably be worried he pissed his date off, but at the moment he wanted to crawl into his lap- probably not the smartest idea right now.

“Sorry.”

The guitarist deflated, sighing in defeat. “No, I am. Snapping at you was a dick move; I just didn’t expect you to bring that up so suddenly.” Well, he had Axl’s perfect timing to thank for that. “I still might be a bit pissed with how things went.” _A bit_.

“Yeah,” Axl said, voice barely above a whisper. “I get that.” Slash raised a brow in question. “My Ex, Jeff, broke up with me few months ago,” he tried to laugh, but it couldn’t get out. “It was...pretty fucking bad.” He sighed, “I was drunk as often as I could be.” The guitarist could hear the pain in his voice; this person probably meant the world to him- Perla and he was a different story. That was a can of worms he did not want to open right now.

Slash groaned, laying back and locking his fingers behind the headrest. “Fuck. We’re a pathetic pair.”

“Mostly you.” He teased, silently thanking the powers that be for lightening the mood again. “So... are you gonna kiss me goodnight? Or shall we just sit here wading in our sorrows?”

“I prefer the first offer.”

Axl’s face hurt from how hard he was smiling, but he’d damned if he cared. “I can dig that.” Of course he wasn’t about to make it easy. He made a show of squirming around to get comfortable, opening his legs slightly, smirking mischievously at Slash. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”

The guitarist threw his head back and a full body laugh spilled from his lips. “Maybe some other time,” he mutters, raking his eyes over Axl’s form appreciatively. “Would you be content with a kiss instead?”

“Hmm... What if I said no?” his teased, prepared to hear something along the lines of ‘I’d kiss you anyway’.

Slash blinked, tone completely serious. “Then I wouldn’t do it.” He watched Axl’s expression morph into one of skepticism and briefly wondered why something as simple as this would seem untrue. “What? No means no, I’m _not_ about to fucking harass you.”

Axl looked away, clearing his throat. “Yeah well, If only everyone thought like you.” Slash’s heart sunk at the tone of voice he said that in, as if such a thing was wishful thinking.

“Axl...” he didn’t even know how to fucking breach this, “did someone-”

“-Can we talk about that some other time?” he pleaded, pressed against the door, looking like a trapped animal. Talk. That was one thing he hated.

“Ok,” Slash lowered his voice, trying to calm the redhead, “let’s try again. Axl ‘Gingersnap’ Rose, may I kiss you goodnight?” The soft sound of the kid’s giggles was music to his ears.

“Jeez, did you have to say it like that?” His pale cheeks were flushed red and he constantly tugged at his plump bottom lip with his teeth- a nervous tick. A tick Slash found extremely sexy, he almost missed Axl’s quiet reply. “Yeah, of course.”

_Thank fuck._

Slash leaned in till they were barely an inch apart, Axl had closed his eyes, lips slightly parted, waiting...And _who was he to keep Axl waiting?_

He honestly tried to take it slow- scout’s honor, but as soon as their lips touched, Axl seemed to come alive, boldly taking control of the kiss. If someone were to ask about the series of events that led up to having a lap full of Axl- he wouldn’t know what to tell ‘em.

Slash pulled away-with _great_ difficulty- from Axl’s lips to bite into his own when the redhead began to grind on his very hard dick.  He was not 13. He definitely would not be coming in his pants like a 13 year old. Well, he _shouldn’t_ be- not sure how long he could hold out. He watched entranced as the kid exposed the pale line of his neck when he threw his head back- arching to find a better angle with which to continue his torture. Slash took the opportunity to suck kisses onto his neck, bucking his hips when Axl let out a high-pitched keening sound that went straight to his cock. This might be the death of his favorite pants, and he’s very ok with that.

Not good, this was _supposed_ to be a goodnight kiss.

“Uhm, Axl... babe,” he tried. He really did, but with Axl looking down at him like he was a very delectable piece of candy, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and shiny from spit-he was biting them again, _what the fuck was a guy to do?_ \- he promptly lost track of whatever he was trying to say.

The redhead smirked wickedly, as if he knew exactly how he affected Slash, trailing a hand over his own abdomen and under his shirt. Swallowing hard, the guitarist watched as inch after inch of pale skin in revealed, hands flexing on Axl’s hip with his need to touch.

“Tell me what you want.” It was more of a plea than a command, and still, Slash couldn’t find the words to answer. Axl’s ran his free hand downwards to his own crotch, moaning as he palmed his erection which was very obvious since his pants were skin tight. Slash released an answering moan, gripping those slender hips tighter when he felt his cock dribble precum. 

There was a sharp rap on the window. “Yo!”

Slash started causing Axl to bump his head against the roof of the car, Duff waved cheerfully at them from the window.

 After a moment of shocked silence, Slash met Axl’s exasperated gaze and they both begun to laugh.

 “Christ our life is a fucking joke.” The redhead muttered as he wound the window down. “For fuck’s sake, what?”

“We’re cock-blocking ya.” Steven supplied helpfully, eyes heavy-lidded. “Just for fun, ya know?”

Slash sighed, tensing as Axl shifted around to get comfortable, rubbing against him in the process. “Why’d you take so long to get here?” Slash’s hands wrapped around Axl’s back and pulled him forward unto his chest. The redhead was comfortable- well, as comfortable as one could be with a raging boner.

“We er.... detoured to see the sights.” That translated roughly to ‘we sat on the sidewalk and got high.’ The fact that Steven was staring at his own reflection on the exterior of the car in fascination seemed to further support his theory. Duff cleared his throat and said petulantly, “You can’t fuck in the car since we couldn’t. And it’s so very funny to fuck with you both, you should’ve seen your faces.” The blond looked so proud of himself that Slash couldn’t help giggling.

“That’s right, NO fucking. Bye kids, don’t scare the children.” Steven yelled, swaying and stumbling as he walked towards their building with Duff hot on his heels.

Axl was still pretty pissed, he didn't give one hoot how adorable they looked, tripping over each other and bursting into giggles. 

"Well then..." Slash begun, smiling thoughtfully. "I should probably be a lot more annoyed than I am right now... but they're just so-"

"Cute? Loveable?" Axl sighed, beginning the process of getting back into his own seat, wincing at the almost unbearable pressure in his pants. "Yeah, I think they do it on purpose. A defense mechanism so I cant actually be mad at them for anything they do."

"Funny thing is, it works." Slash grumbled, bringing his seat up and clearing his throat nervously. "So...I guess this is goodnight then?"

Uh-uh.

There was no way in fucking hell Axl was about to come this close and  _not_ get off tonight, thanks to Duff. "You don't have anywhere else to be, do ya?" He waited for Slash to shake his head. "Well, how about you come up for coffee?"

The brunette tilted his head in curiosity- something the redhead was really beginning to love. "At three thirty in the morning?" 

Axl just smiled, slow and sweet,"best time for drinking coffee if you ask me." To be honest, they were actually all out of coffee- a minor detail.

"Yeah, I'd like that." He said, spotting Axl's intentions from a mile away. "So long as our tea party won't get interrupted again..."

Axl laughed, half hiccuping, "God, you suck."

"But you like it." Slash stated firmly and he couldn't find it in himself to disagree.

\--------------------------

He’d been driving forever, running on too much caffeine and maybe a little bit of cocaine. Burdened with the responsibility of delivering a message so weighty,he won’t allow himself to pull over, or rest till it’s been done- no matter how much of his mind he felt he was losing with each mile.

He fiddled with the radio until Elvis’ bluesy voice crackled through the speakers.

_Wise men say, only fools rush in_

_But I can’t help falling in love with you._

 

A pained smirk twisted his lips; _this had to be a fucking cruel joke, right?_ Because now he was thinking about those lips and the first time they met his, of summers passed in blissful joy- or as close to it as they could get, considering the circumstances.

_Shall I stay?_

_Would it be a sin if I can’t help-_

 

He jabbed the power button before it could go on. It was too much, even if he deserved every bit of it.

The silence proved worse, because that left him alone with his very loud thoughts.

_Fuck._

He snuck a furtive glance at the time. 3:55am

Six hours worth of empty road to burn.

Going faster wasn’t really an option; he was barely below the speed limit as is and a ticket when he barely had enough money for gas is not a good idea.

Frustrated, he turns on the radio again in time to hear the opening strains of _Jumpin’ Jack Flash_ ; at least it wasn’t fucking Elvis, though it still reminds him of someone he once had.

\-----------------------

“So to be clear,” Axl queried breathlessly, raising his hands so his shirt could be tugged over his head, “you don’t actually want the coffee, or anything to drink?”

Slash barked an incredulous laugh, capturing Axl’s lips in a bruising kiss. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” He toed off his boots, watching Axl’s shaking hands undo his belt. “There’s only one thing I want to drink right now, and your questions are seriously distracting me from it.”

 _Oh Fuck_. Axl’s can feel the blood pooling in his cheeks and he isn’t sure why he’s acting like a blushing virgin when he’s miles from it. (Or why the fuck his body has blood to spare for that shit when it feels like all of it’s in his cock)

“Need help with that, kid?” Slash teased, just to watch Axl squirm. The laughter died in his throat when the redhead finally pulls them down and stands there stark naked blushing up a storm.

“There was no way I could fit anything under those pants,” he muttered as means of explanation, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Slash of course wasn't complaining, because Axl was beautiful, not that he'd expected anything less.

Slash was raking his eyes over Axl’s body like he was trying to memorize every detail. It made the redhead squirm with the intensity of it. He’s not shy. He was just... getting used to the way Slash stared at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Bed.” Slash’s voice wavered a bit, but Axl seemed to understand. Nodding, he walked backwards till the back of his knees hit the bed, not wanting to take his eyes Slash for one second as he stripped efficiently-somehow still managing to look graceful as he rushed. Axl's breath caught as his eyes roamed over Slash's bare form-- the miles of brown skin, sinewy muscles and maybe, just _maybe_ he was standing there tenting his black boxers- Calvin Klein of course- flexing just for Axl to see.

"Are you fucking serious?" Axl croaked, even as he stared unabashedly.

"You were staring." Slash grinned, making his way over to the redhead in sure strides. "I'm just giving you what you were too shy to ask for."

The redhead snorted, pulling the guitarist into another passionate kiss, "showoff."

Slash blushed, ducking his head as he falls to his knees between Axl's splayed legs "only for you." Axl's heart did a weird little flip, because he totally believed him.

"You're a fucking babe," Axl said, heat flaring in his stomach again because Slash was on his knees for him, "but I really, really need to come."

The brunette smirked, licking his lips "I can do that." He'd never done this before, heck, he had never wanted to do this before. But it was all he could think about since Axl first undressed. He wrapped his hand tentatively around Axl's length, gulping when it pulled a tiny whimper from kiss-swollen lips. He pumped his hand slowly, chewing on his lip nervously even as the redhead writhed.

"Please... don't teas-"

Slash felt he should probably get a warning out "Sorry, I- I haven't done this before-"

"I've been hard for like, forever. Just saying, you breathing on me will prolly set me off," he rasped, biting back a frustrated whine "but you don't have to, let's just-"

Somewhere between Axl's rambling, Slash worked up enough courage to lap hesitantly at the head, letting out a surprised hum at the taste, eyes widening just so. "Oh." he breathed, before smiling a bit and lapping at the shaft.

Slash was probably gonna be the death of Axl, and cumming in like five seconds is probably embarrassing, but it _had_ been a while, and Slash was fucking impossible (that's his case and he's sticking to it). Slash gained confidence, opening  his mouth and sucking at the head while he fondled Axl's balls-- the soft broken sounds the redhead was making above him adding fuel to the fire. The guitarist shoved a hand into his boxers, unable to put off his own needs anymore. He moaned around Axl's length, eyes fluttering shut.

" _Shit_." Axl moaned, eyes blown wide as he watched slash sucked him deeper into that tight wet heat, pulling off to cough when Axl's hips lifted reflexively. " _Fuck,_ babe, sorry I-"

Slash's mouth was back, punishingly hot around Axl's throbbing length. He devoted himself to his task with single-minded attention, brows furrowed as he tries to relax and take Axl deeper. The redhead released a garbled string of curses, shaking as he neared his peak- _too fast, what's it been, 2 minutes?-_ struggling to remember words other than _fuck, Slash_ and _Shit._

 "Slash," he cried, voice strained and wavering, "you should probably mov- _fuck"_

Warning Slash just seemed to spur him on, he bobs his head faster, moaning at the bitter tang of cum on his tongue and the sounds of Axl falling apart above him. 

"Get up here. now." Axl commanded, eyes heavy and movements languid. He pulled Slash unto him, kissing him slowly. "What do you need-?"

"Uhm..." Slash ducked his head into Axl's neck. "I'm good." It was then that Axl feels a damp patch against his thigh. 

Axl snickered,"we lasted all of what, five minutes?" Slash rolled off of him, joining his laughter.

Slash chuckled, smothering the sound with his palm, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Axl thought he'd never looked more lovely. "Wow, that's embarrassing. I feel like twelve."

"It's ok," Axl joked, "we'll never speak of it. And we can make love real slow next time."

 _Next time._ Slash grinned, "mind if i sleep naked?"

"I honestly don't see why you wear clothes at all." The redhead drawled, sprawled shamelessly across the bed, blue eyes tracking Slash's every move.

"Why am I not surprised you'd say that?" he said, soaking up Axl's attention. He slid into bed, and snuggles up to Axl who was positively beaming at him.

“I had a feeling you’d love being pampered.” Slash mumbled when the redhead grabs his hand and pulls it to his hair. He complied nonetheless, smiling at Axl's satisfied little hum.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he shot back, peering up at the brunette. “But you should probably pamper me further with cuddles... for science, ya know?” Slash laughs at that, shifting so Axl could get comfortable and press as close as his heart desired.

“God... you’re something else.” He whispered into silky hair, feeling Axl huff a laugh against his bare chest.

He had to ask. “Something good?” Axl queried in a small voice, words slurring from exhaustion. This has been the fucking longest day of his life, albeit one of the best.

Slash grinned to himself before replying. “Something fucking amazing

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahahahaha plz, forgive me.  
> Slash is so cute though...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah ok, time to fuck shit up :)  
> Cheers.

Axl woke up feeling cold.

And that annoyed him way more than it should. Grunting, he reached out to grope around the bed, trying to find that blasted asshole named-

“Slash?”

No Answer. Still asleep?

He pried his sleep-heavy eyes open and came face to face with the empty bed. The fucker wasn’t there. Now why was that so disappointing? The sound of boisterous laughter from the living room grated on his nerves even more.

_How dare there be mirth when Axl was cold?_

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he headed towards the small bathroom, cursing every step of the way. By the time he got to the living room, his mood had darkened significantly. And it wasn’t just mild annoyance at waking up alone now, there was something in the air that pissed him off- felt like some bad news was coming his way and he was seldom wrong about these things.

“Heyyyyy Princess!” Duff exclaimed around his mouthful of food, “You...” he jabbed his fork in Axl’s direction, “look pissy.”

“You’d think after all the screaming we heard last night he would’ve woken up satisfied.” Steven added from his spot at the couch.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation for this,” Slash joked, looking right at home sprawled on the floor, head tipped back against the couch. The men all nodded, looking pointedly at Axl.

He sighed, sitting himself down at the table next to Duff. “I woke up cold.” His tone was petulant, lips poised in a pout.

The boys burst into laughter, “Slash, we thought we told you this one had to be pampered.” The bassist teased, patting Axl’s head fondly.

“Aww man, I thought the orgasm and cuddles were enough.” He joked, rising to his feet and sauntering over to Axl. “Mornin’ babe.”

 _Babe._ One silly endearment had no right making him feel all warm and tingly. “Hey.” He replied, blushing when Slash leans over to kiss him softly- in front of everyone.  Axl rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles, “yeah, yeah. Shut up.” It did cause his feeling of dread to settle a bit, though it still lingered there at the edge of his mind.

“And now to continue the pampering,” Slash announced, with much fanfare, “I’ll go get your coffee.”

If Axl rolled his eyes any harder, they’d probably disappear into his head. Permanently. “I see you three idiots are getting along.”

Duff nodded, “He’s surprisingly cool, I like him.”

“Me too.” Steven chirped, joining them at the table. “He’s even cooler in person.”

“You’ve been staring at him with starry eyes since the first time you met.” Duff snapped, still irrationally jealous.

The drummer just grinned, winking saucily “Ya know, a jealous Duff is a sexy Duff...”

“Don’t have me barf at the breakfast table.” Axl cut it, receiving punches on both his arms for his trouble. “You are both so abusive.”

Before Duff could sock him another to support his statement, there was an urgent knock on the door interrupting their banter. Axl tensed visibly beside him, eyes darting nervously towards the direction of the sound.

The bassist knew him long enough to know that something was up. He only got that look when he was going to bring up some dark shit (their therapeutic talks had continued) or he was expecting it. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not feeling so good.” He muttered.

Duff pressed a hand to his forehead, “You sick?”

Axl chuckled weakly, “not that kind of feeling.”

_Oh._

_Well that can only mean one thing._ Finding out about Axl’s secretly superstitious nature was kind of a shocker for Duff. He believed in such things as curses, felt everything had a certain vibe he could identify, felt he could sense things coming in his bones long before they did. He had various charms in his room he believed would ward off evil- Axl had revealed all this with a serious expression, firm in his beliefs even in the face of Duff’s skepticism.

_“When you’ve seen things that I’ve seen Duff,” he’d said with a secretive smile, “you’ll understand.”_

The knock rang out again sharply through the air, three raps, the sound was almost ominous. Axl held Duff’s gaze even though his insides were roiling. “You should get that.”

“You sure?” He wasn’t sure he wanted to go; they really could just pretend they weren’t home. No harm, no foul.

“Trouble came to find me,” he said, more confidently than he felt. “Least we can do is invite it in for tea.”

Duff wasn’t even sure _why_ he was fucking scared. He squared his shoulders and headed towards the door anyway, almost jumping when the knock came again. Three raps. _Fuck_. Breathing deeply, he opened the door quickly and all the air rushed out of him.

Un- _fucking_ -believable.

This shit only seemed to ever happen when _he_ opened the door. First Slash, now this. This was it; his door-opening days were over.

“No.”

The dark-haired man smiled- a small twist of his lips. “It’s good to see you too Duff.” He blew out a lungful of smoke before speaking again. “Now, won’t you invite me in for tea?”

\-------------------------------

Slash had returned with tea and pancakes, but Axl couldn’t touch them.  He just stared at the slender man sitting across from him, looking for all the world like he belonged here.

  _Because he does_ , his mind hissed. _At least here is where he would be if you didn’t chase him away._

Axl swallowed hard, the air thick with tension. “What are you doing here?” He snapped, still not looking into those gray eyes- that would not be good for anyone involved.

“You look good.” He said softly, ignoring Axl’s tone. “Well, it’s a step up from the last time I saw you.” That was fucking cruel, even for him.

It goes unsaid that the last time he saw Axl, the redhead was running high on heroin, crying and begging Izzy to stay. _Anything_ was a step up from that.

“ _Why_ are you here?” he asked again, slowly this time. Izzy tilted his head in that cat-like fashion of his, eyes flickering to Slash who was on the couch, pretending not to listen.

“Is that who I think it is?” Izzy wasn’t sure why he was dragging this out, but seeing that Axl was moving on was like a punch to the gut- some deep dark part of him wanted him to hurt. _But haven’t I hurt him enough?_

The redhead sighed like this conversation was taking everything from him; he should’ve just stayed in bed. “Jeffery... make it quick” Slash glanced up at the sound of the name, shooting a questioning glance to Duff. _That’s Jeff? The Jeff?_

Duff nodded, looking everywhere but at the table.

_Silence._

Axl made the mistake of sneaking a glance at Izzy who was watching him closely, stormy eyes barely leaving his face. “So it isn’t Jeff or Izzy anymore, huh?” He injected a bit of hurt into his voice, just because he was a fucking asshole.

Axl felt cornered, voice shaking dangerously, “Jeff... please, just...” he just wanted this over with. The air still felt _wrong_ somehow. All at once Izzy felt like shit. He had expected Axl to lash out in anger, to possibly kick his ass. But _this, this_ wasn’t why he came here, not to fucking torture his best friend. Not anymore than the news would on its own.

“Your sister was trying to get in touch with you.” He begun, wanting to get this out as soon as possible so he could just fucking leave. “You didn’t leave any address or way for her to conta-”

“-Ya know I could’na done that.” Axl’s voice was low; his shoulders slumped like he could barely find the energy to hold himself upright. Stephen would have followed him all the way here, beat him within an inch of his life and drag him back. There was no way he could know.

Slash shifted uncomfortably on the couch, he’d never heard Axl sound like this before, and he didn’t like it. He didn’t really like this Jeff guy either.

“Yeah, I know, Rose.” Izzy replied gently, pausing for a while before continuing. “Anyway, she knew mine, since I always called from L.A on my cell.” Axl nodded, really not liking where this was going. “She asked to talk to you, but of course,” he grinned self-deprecatingly, “I had already fucked that up.” He took a long drag of the cigar, feeling the entire room on edge, waiting.... wondering. “She... They need you, man. Axl, you need to go home. Your mom’s in the hospital, I think she’s...” _dying_. “your mum keeps asking to see you one last time.”

The room seemed completely devoid of air.

“Axl?” Izzy’s voice came from some distant place, “Axl, I’m so sorry man.”

Duff was at his side, hand squeezing his shoulders while Slash was on his knees next to him, holding his hand. Steven lingered at the edge of his vision; looking shaken up, wanting to reach out, but unsure how to. But that was okay, because he was there.

 What did he ever do to deserve them?

“What is it?” he asked voice eerily calm. “What’s killing her?”

Izzy was watching him, brows furrowed, occasionally glancing at the three men. He clearly had something good here; people who cared for him, Axl didn’t need him anymore “Cancer.”

Axl nodded like they were talking about the weather, “how long did she have it?”

“Months,” he replied. “She refused treatment; it wasn’t ‘God’s will’.”

The redhead’s peal of laughter surprised everyone, except Izzy. He just kept his arms crossed, staring the redhead down. Axl shook his head, “That’s so like her, isn’t it?” He felt relaxed. Unnaturally so, and that only meant another ‘episode’ was in the making.

“Is it just me, or is he taking this disturbingly well?” Slash whispered, Axl’s hand felt limp and cold in his grasp.

“Oh, this?” Duff asked, rubbing gently at Axl’s shoulders. “This is just how it starts; we should probably leave before it _actually_ starts setting in.”

“Listen, Axl.” Izzy said, concern coloring his features, “are ya ok man? I know this is a lot, I drove nine fucking hours with this shit weighing on me- it hit me hard, and it’s not even my mum. So you...”

Axl’s smile was faint, eyes staring off at some distant memory. “She’s basically already dead, isn’t she? Can’t be saved?”

Izzy’s lips thinned, “sorry man.”

The redhead finally looked at him, like he’s seeing him in a new light. “Thanks for coming all this way. You can stay for tea if you’d like?” Izzy shook his head no. He had to leave, he knew Axl, and when Axl was hurting he needed his space. “You should probably leave then.” He squeezes Slash’s hand, “all of you.”

“Well, I’ll see you around.” Izzy muttered, he turns to leave after throwing Slash one last loaded glance.

Duff nodded, giving Axl’s shoulders one final squeeze, “call us if you need anything.” Slash couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he stumbled after the bassist.

“You can’t actually be thinking about leaving him _alone_ , are ya?” They all glanced at Axl who was staring into his coffee like it held the answers to all the questions in the universe.  He was still deathly calm.

“Listen, its best if you leave him alone in times like this.” He motions towards Axl’s room, “go get your keys, let’s fucking go.”

“But-”

“Slash, trust me on this. Just give him an hour or two, we’ll come back.”

The guitarist made a small sound of distress, but did as was told—Axl didn’t even look up at him. They were barely out the door before the sound of shattering glass came from the apartment. Slash very nearly crawled out of his skin. He _had_ to go back, had to figure out if Axl was ok-

Duff held the sides of his face “look at me,” he forced the brunette to meet his gaze. “I know you’re worried about him, but believe me, its best if you leave him alone for a while. It’s how he... copes.” The sound of something large overturning caused Slash to flinch, but he forces himself to nod.

“Ok,” he said, breathing deeply. “Yeah, okay, let’s go.”

They were almost at the elevator when Steven finally spoke.

“Uhm guys,” Steven’s voice was thin and childlike, his usually tan skin pale. “I think I’m gonna take off for a while.”

Duff looked like he’d been slapped, “Stevie, c’mon, please don’t. You said you’d--”

“Only for a while Duff,” he insisted, trying to smile reassuringly and failing miserably. “There’s something I need to take care of.” _Well, that much was true._ Steven tried to ignore the guilt weighing down on his chest, he couldn’t help it. He _needed_.

“Babe,” Slash squeezed his eyes shut at the rawness of Duff’s voice. He feels like he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t see. “You don’t need to, ok? -- Just,” he sighed, tugging at the strands of his hair in frustration. “Come with us. I know that that shook you up, but we’ll work through it.” Deep down, Duff knew it was futile. There was absolutely nothing he could do when Steven got like this.

Steven’s smile was a pale imitation of his usual sunny one; he backed away, shaking his head. _I can’t_. “I-- I just need to take care of something. I’ll call you ok?” He turns around and walks away without another word.

“Steve!” He kept walking; the twitch of his shoulders the only sign that he had heard Duff’s shout.

All is still for a while, Duff’s face completely unreadable. Slash wasn’t sure what to do here, so he stood there in silence, ignoring the faint sounds of shattering that were still coming from the apartment. Quick and vicious, Duff lashed out, aiming a kick at the trash can next to the elevator. He tried to calm himself, taking deep breaths while counting to ten.

“Let’s go,” he rasped, “take me somewhere.” _Anywhere._

Slash nodded, he could do that.

By time they got to driving around, the silence was deafening. Slash decided to take the gamble, “What was that about?”

Duff ground his teeth together, looking away before replying, “fucking heroin, what else?”

“Steven? Heroin?” Slash struggled to imagine Steven shooting up- the image didn’t come.

The blonde’s laugh was cold, “what? Is that surprising? The _only_ surprising thing is that he hasn’t OD’ed _again_.” Slash bit his lip and kept quiet; he knew Duff didn’t mean that.

Duff sighed, “ _Fuck_ , I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that at all.” Tears stung the corner of his eyes, Axl was right, this day was _a complete shitter._ “But, he said... he wouldn’t--that he’d cut back—I don’t just expect him to just fucking quit ya know? But he said he’d get help and I don’t fucking know what to do now, because I’m almost certain he just went to get a hit. And every fucking one...” _Could be his last._

 _“Believe me,_ I know, man.” The sweet siren song of heroin was still a daily part of his life. Clean or not, once you shoot up, once you knew what it felt like, you spent the rest of your life thirsting for it. On some days the urge was stronger than on others. He rubbed absently at his arm.

“His mom died a year ago,” he muttered, bouncing his leg—A nervous tick. “With the needle in her arm, it really fucked him up man. She was using from his stash; he’s pretty convinced he should’ve died instead.” He chuckled drily, “and now Axl? I think that reminded him of how he felt that day... and for an addict, there’s only one thing that numbs pain...” he trailed off, staring into space. “I shouldn’t have fucking carried him home last night, this is all my—”

“Hey come on, this _isn’t_ on you. You didn’t know.” He offered Duff his hand and the blond accepted gratefully, clinging to him like a lifeline. “It’s ok; we’ll find him before anything happens.” _Hopefully._

“Yeah, ok.”

They didn’t.

\-----------------------------------

The apartment was in quite a ghastly state when they got back. Floor covered in shattered plates and cups, almost every piece of furniture overturned. And there was Axl, curled up on the couch and sleeping like an angel in the midst of all the turmoil.

When he commented on it, Duff just snorted, “Looks like he burned himself out.”

“He’s like a child.” Slash said, voice filled with awe. With a trembling hand he pushed some loose strands of silky red hair behind Axl’s ear.

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” he muttered, peering over Slash’s shoulder and smiling to himself. “Almost certain we can thank his very _wonderful_ childhood for that.” His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“He told me a bit about Stephen and being forced out of school...”

“Yeah? Did he mention the beatings or the rapes?” Slash’s head snapped up lightening fast. _Oops_.

He felt his heart sink all the way to his boots. “The _beatings_? The-” He cut off, not trusting himself to say the rest.

Duff flinched as Axl stirred, “Yeah, do me a favor and _don’t_ mention that I told you. He needs to tell you in his own time and he’ll probably kick my ass if—” His cell’s shrill ringtone cut him off mid sentence. He glanced at the screen and all the blood seemed to drain out of his face.

He swiped at the screen roughly and barked “Steven! Where the fuck are you? We’ve been driving around trying to find-” A pause and then, “did you use?” Slash had that creeping feeling of intruding again; he kept his gaze locked on Axl, watching the rise and fall of his chest. “Babe –Just stay there, I’m coming to get you right now. Don’t do anything stupid.” He ended the call and stood there for a breath, hands hanging limply at his side. He might be crying, he really didn’t fucking know.

“How is he?”

“He said he didn’t do it but...” _I don’t believe for a second_. He swallowed hard. “He’s barely hanging on,” he muttered, wringing his hands. “If I don’t get to him soon...”

He fished his keys from his pocket, “take the car.” Duff searched Slash’s face, already planning his refusal. “Don’t give me that crap man, just go get him.”

“Slash...”

“Don’t tell me you’re turning down a ride in Eileen,” he joked weakly, earning a tired chuckle from Duff. He took the keys, stared down at them for a while, then back at Slash. The silent ‘ _thank you’_ was loud and clear.

Slash nodded, looking away before asking “And how are you?”

“Me? Stellar.” He quipped, grabbing his jacket. “Don’t worry about me, just please –Take care of him.” He waited for Slash to nod his assent before leaving. The guitarist really didn’t think it was his place to call attention to Duff’s trembling hands and wet cheeks.

\----------------------

Axl blinked awake while Slash was moving him for the second time. He was wrapped in blanket and being carried bridal style through the chilly night air towards the mansion.

“Ya know, this could be considered kidnapping.” Slash swore profusely, Axl could feel his heart thundering in his chest from where they were pressed together.

“You fucking piece of _shit_ ,” he said whole heartedly as Axl burst into giggles. “You almost gave me a goddamn heart attack.”

He kissed Slash’s neck just to watch him shudder, “Sorry beautiful, you make it so easy for me.” 

 _Beautiful._ He hid a smile in Axl’s hair. He’d never been called beautiful before. “Sorry, I just thought you needed the change of scenery, and you looked so peaceful... I didn’t want to wake you.” He waited for James to open the front door before placing Axl gently on his feet. “Besides, it’s kinda fun to carry you around.”

“Mr. Rose,” James embraced him quickly, and jeez, underneath that stuffy British act the guy was ripped. And he gave nice hugs; apparently everyone in this family had healing hug powers. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

Axl bit his tongue before a bitter _‘yeah, well I’m not’_ could slip out. “Yeah, me too.” He said instead. _Lies, lies, lies._

The man’s grey eyes held his, seemed to read the lie in the determined set of Axl’s jaw, but he said nothing of the matter. “Hungry?”

“Starving.” The rumbling of his stomach seemed to loudly support that statement.  He still hadn’t touched the pancakes Slash had made him. Axl felt himself flushing, _oh God, what James must think of him._ Slash snickered from behind him and Axl regrets ever apologizing for almost scaring him shitless.  Next time...

“How does pizza sound?” he asked with what seemed to be poorly hidden amusement.

Axl observed the _very_ interesting patterns on the tiles.

“Sound’s good.”He muttered, coloring even more when just James laughed and said “Please don’t be embarrassed Mr. Rose, I had to raise _three_ boys, or animals, you can use both terms interchangeably.”

“Ehem, one of those said animals are standing right here.” Slash said, pouting.

“Of course you are, sir.” He replied before walking off.

 Axl laughed at that, feeling a whole lot less like shit.

“The sad thing is, I’m still not sure if he just insulted me. ‘Of course’ I’m standing right here? Or ‘Of course’ I’m an animal? He makes it sound so... polite, in that way that only British people can.” If Axl laughed any harder he might pass out. He was actually beginning to feel light headed.

“ _I_ obviously never learned to,” Slash muttered petulantly. He motioned for Axl to follow him to the living room.

“ _You’re_ British?”

The guitarist glanced at him over his shoulder like he’d grown another head, “You’re shit at research, aren’t you? Didn’t your new-fangled _Tumblr_ tell you that?”

“Fuck you.” He hissed, admiring Slash’s ass nonetheless. He decided that _that_ was an ass he wanted to grow old with.

“Language.” He chided, throwing his entire body across one couch. Axl decided he also wanted to sit on that ass, so he did. “Get offa’ me, you egg,” Slash groaned, flailing half-heartedly.

“Ok, I’m _sorry_ , I take that back.” Axl said between barks of laughter, “you are definitely _very_ British. What kind of fucking insult is _egg_? Dear God.”

Slash’s body shook with his laughter, “Shut up.”

“Don’t you mean, _shut up you egg_?”

Slash squirmed enough to upset Axl’s seating, flipping and pinning him on the couch and tickling him till he gasped for breath. “Ok ok ok—I’m sorry, Uncle. Uncle!” he flailed wildly and accidentally knocks off a very expensive looking lamp from the side table _. Oh Fuck_.

James walked in with the boxes of pizza and freezes, tilting his head as his sharp gaze flicks from the shards of vase to the two men on the couch. Axl suddenly realized where Slash got the head-tilting from. Cute.

“Oops.” Axl stage-whispered, triggering another bout of laughter from Slash. “It was Slash.” James quirked an eyebrow at Slash in question.

“What? No way, how is this _my_ fault? _Your_ hand knocked it off!” he whined. Those unsettling grey eyes settled on Axl.

Axl let out a little hiccup of laughter, God they were ridiculous. “Yeah, cause _you_ were harassing me.”

James glanced at Slash again, trying not to laugh at his gob smacked expression.

“Because _you_ had to go make fun of my...” he struggled to find the word, “Britishness!” Slash muffled his laughter with the back of his hand at Axl’s comically raised eyebrows.

“And now you _both_ will be cleaning it up.” James concluded. Eyes filled with mirth he sauntered to the coffee table and placed the boxes of pizza there. “Have fun gentlemen.”

“Dibs on you cleaning it up.” Axl whispered. Slash sighed theatrically, frowning at the redhead.

“Pretty sure that’s not how dibs work.” He muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. This kid was too much.

“How would _you_ know? You’re British.” Axl pointed out, much to James’ amusement.

“Tell me how you really feel, Mr. Rose.” He quipped, returning with bourbon and drinking glasses.

“Axl, please.” He muttered around a mouthful of pizza, blushing faintly. “You are, of course, one of the cooler British people.”

“For that, I’m forever in your debt.” He bowed graciously before taking his leave once again.

It so turned out that both of them had to clean up when James told them he’d take all the food back unless they got rid of the mess.

Axl knew Slash was trying to distract him from the shitstorm that occurred earlier, so he smiled and tried his best to keep up with the guitarist rambling about London- it really was interesting, but his mind kept drifting to his mother lying alone in a hospital bed. Slash trailed off when he realized Axl had been staring into his drink for the past five minutes, lips turned down at the corners.

“Wow, sorry. I must be boring you.”

“Nuh-uh,” Axl muttered, “I’m just... kinda digesting everything.”

Slash didn’t reply, he’s not sure what he would do if he got any such news about Ola, but it definitely didn’t involve being so calm. “I’m sorry.”

The redhead shook his head and grinned, stealing a quick glance at Slash’s face. “You’re probably wondering why I’m taking this so well.” The guitarist made a small noise of confirmation. “That’s ‘cause,” he takes a gulp of the amber liquid, “I’m not really sure how to feel about it. She’s a fucking bitch.”

_Well. That definitely changes things._

Axl laughed at the brunette’s shell shocked expression _, well, it’s now or never._ He takes another swig of liquid courage before trusting himself to continue. “Remember that dick Stephen?” Slash nodded. “Yeah, well, not only was he a mean-mouthed motherfucker, he was a pretty handsy one too.”

Axl couldn’t continue, his glass was empty. He slid the empty glass to Slash who hesitantly refills it. “Thanks.” Honestly, Axl never learned. This was looking a lot like date night all over again, but he needed to get this out. “Anyway, he was real big on ‘discipline’,” the redhead spits the word like it personally offended him, “which really was just another way for him to get his rocks off on beating us near death.”

Slash’s throat felt clogged, he downs all of the liquid in his glass.

“She knew, we told her all the time. She fucking sat there in the living room _knitting_ while he almost killed me once. Cracked coupla my ribs, broke my nose, I was bleeding all over the carpet.” Axl’s voice trembled, but he didn’t stop. “She didn’t do anything about it, acted like nothing was happening. We were scared, we were just kids man, and she wouldn’t stand up for us. God gave us this family; we just had to live with it.”

“Your mom is religious?” Slash croaked, because surely some kind of verbal participation was required of him at this point. His head was spinning, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t the liquor.

Axl’s laugh was bitter and chilling. “A fucking fanatic, we went to church eight times a week-- _twice_ on Sundays.” He clanked his empty glass on the coffee table, “you’d think that’d mean she’d be against all that shit, right? ‘Suffer the little children’ and what not, but it sure as fuck didn’t stop the rapes either.”

The brunette felt sick, he slumped weakly back against the sofa. “Jesus _Christ_.”

“ _He_ sure as fuck wasn’t any help either,” the redhead giggled as he refilled his glass, liquor loosening his tongue. “Steve-o used to –” _Hiccup_ “—fuck with my sister. Can you believe that shit? She’s _younger_ than me ya know.” The drunker he got the thicker his accent became, “momma knew ‘bout that too, bu’ of course she pretended she didn’t. Stephen wouldn’t touch _me_ like _that_ though; he said I was corrupted—unclean— unlike Amy.” _And he knew why, he saw Izzy and Axl together one night, swore up and down that Axl had been ‘tainted’ and wouldn’t lay hands on him.... unless he was hitting him of course._ The redhead laughed drily at the memory, guess it was a stroke good luck that he liked dick too, huh? It saved him additional problems.

Axl’s hands were shaking, but luckily there was no liquor in his glass to spill.

“C’mere kid.” Slash knew he was crying, he’d never been this angry in his life. _What kind of fucking person does that?_

_What kinda fucking parent allows that?_

_What kind of shit did this kid have to_ grow _up with?_

The redhead made a wounded sound and crawls gratefully into Slash’s lap, “I really hate her. She stood up fer’ us once or twice, but not enough—it was _never_ enough.” His voice hitched as a sob forced it way out of him— _great, just great_.

“If I ever lay eyes on that Stephen fella, I can’t promise I won’t try to kill him.” He grit out, rocking Axl as the kid sobbed into his shirt.

The redhead let out a watery chuckle, “you won’t be the first to try, Izzy almost fucking gutted him once, gave him a nasty sca—” he shut down abruptly, pressing his lips together. “She’s _still_ my Ma though, ya know? And now, when she’s gone, I’ll have no one. So I don’t know how to feel, happy? Or sad?” _Both maybe._

 _You’ll have me. And Duff. And all your friends. Maybe even Izzy would come around._ “Fuck Rosie, you’ve been lugging all this shit around? You are one strong sonofabitch.”

Axl smiled wanly, he sure didn’t feel like it, but he didn’t point that out. Slash’s rocking motions were lulling him, his eyes were heavy and he was almost certain he’d be out in a few. “Now, tomorrow, I gotta go back. I _don’t_ wanna go back Slas’.” His words were syrupy slow, lashes fluttering as he was pulled under. Slash could barely make sense of what he was saying. “I lef’ fer a reason, I don’ wanna—not alone anyway.” _And Izzy wont- can’t come with me._

“Sssh, it’s ok. You’re not going alone—you _never_ have to be alone again.” He had pretty much made up his mind; he’d take care of it, of all of it.

“ _Shit_!” Axl raised his head weakly, panic setting in. “I gotta call in to work, _fuck_. And book a flight—” he squirmed in Slash’s grip, “I haven’t—I don’—”

“Rosie, hey, I got it. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of it.”Slash said firmly, stroking his hair till he settled again. Axl barely made sense of anything the guitarist just said, but it sounded reassuring. He snuggled closer to his human heater and closed his eyes. Soon after he was out.

James entered the room to find Slash staring into space with Axl curled up on his lap. He glanced at the empty bottles of liquor and started to clean up wordlessly.

“How much did you hear?” he asked, quietly.

“Mr. Rose—” he sighed, eyeing the man in question fondly, “Axl is a very loud drunk.”

Slash held his palm out before him, watching it tremble with detached fascination. “What the fuck did they do to this kid? Why?”

James shook his head, “the actions of monsters can seldom be explained.” He took note of Slash’s splotchy cheeks and sighed, joining him on the sofa. “What do you plan to do, Saul?”

“I’m not fucking leaving him alone,” he said fiercely, clenching his hand into a fist, as if he could fight of every possible being—physical or not—that wished ill of Axl. “They’re not gonna hurt him anymore.”

The older man nodded approvingly, placing a fatherly hand on Slash’s curls, the guitarist leaned into the touch. “Good. He’s confided in you, and that counts for a lot.”

Slash nodded. He wasn’t planning to let him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) whatever will happen next?  
> Comments are cocaine, so gimmie my fix >:)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?  
> Me! and I'm pissed- because a few months ago i realized that damn emoji Slash keeps posting under his posts is just a dude in a top hat :|  
> I feel like an idiot, HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN?  
> How long have you been laughing at me?  
> punks.  
> I feel like such a poof :|

Slash tucked Axl into bed and slipped out to the living room to phone Michelle. She answered on the third ring; he quickly relayed the situation with as little detail as possible, calling on a long-owed favor to convince her.

“Aww, that means you can’t perform tomorrow?” She whined, “I had the posters made and everything too.”

“Yeah, sorry.” He muttered a bit sheepishly

“How long will you guys be gone?” she asked, voice sounding a lot younger over the phone.

“A week, two at most.” He hoped they didn’t have to stay that long.

“Ok. Sure.”

Well that was easy...“Ok?”

“Try not to sound so surprised,” Michelle’s laughter was always a thrill to hear. “Not like I’d refuse you anything.”

He sprawled out on the couch, holding the phone in the juncture of his shoulder “You’re a darling, Mich.”

“Don’t I know it?” There was a long stretch of silence before she finally asked what he had first expected, “what is that kid to you?”

Slash scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “Please don’t make me use the term boyfriend, its vile.”

Michelle giggled at his discomfort, “Yeah ok, I never liked it.” The noise in the background lessened as she moved- presumably- towards her office. “So lemme guess, this ‘personal business’,as you so vaguely termed it, includes him going back to Indiana, huh? Well, that’s gonna be really hard on him.”

“How’d you—”

“Axl and I are close,” he could hear the smile in her voice.”We bond over fucked up childhoods- not in so many words, but we understand each other. He wrote me a song ya, know? _My Michelle_ , accurate down to the porn star dad.” She chuckled like it was the funniest thing in the world and he couldn’t stop the smile from curling his lips. “Just, take care of him for me, ok? I can’t afford to lose this one.”

 _Neither can I_. “Yeah, I can do that. Night Mich.”

She snorted, “It’s 12 am, but yeah, night.”

He crept back into his room, quickly changing into his sweatpants before slipping into bed. Axl grunted, rolled over and tangled their limbs and he snuggled closer. The kid was a fucking cuddle octopus of some sort.

“’m cold.” A deep voice mumbled, startling Slash.

And apparently a ninja.

“Want me to raise the temp?” He really kept the whole house cold to say the least, bearable for James and himself, but probably not for anyone else.

“I _want_ you to hold me.” Axl was of course going to deny ever saying that. “And pull up the duvet.”

“Ok Gingersnap,” he pulled the redhead closer and yanks the duvet up to their chins. “Happy?”

“Meh, could be happier.” Lies. He was as content as he’d ever be.

Slash just laughed at his antics, and kissed his head, “We’ll keep working on it. Good night.”

“I know its morning by now.” Fucking ninja.

“Well, good morning Vietnam!” he exclaimed, _Christ_ he didn’t know where that came from.

Axl laughed out loud for that, startling them both. “You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

He grinned, “I’d like to think so, yes.”

“Well you’re not,” Axl grumbled, slowly drifting off. “You’re such a nerd, how are you famous again?”

“Because I’m badass,” he said firmly, stifling a yawn in his palm. “And I’ve got great hair.”

 _Fair enough_   “Such an egg.” He murmured, parting remarks.

Slash was fairly sure he laughed silently for another twenty minutes before following Axl into dreamland.

\---------------------------

Izzy was strung out.  

Who was he and what the fuck was he doing here?

What the fuck was he doing with his _life_?

What did he want? _Axl_ , a petulant voice in his head supplied _. Scratch that_ , he thought, _what do I want that I can actually have?_

The voice was suspiciously silent.

He was hunched over some bar downtown, throwing back gin and tonics like water—feeling lost and put out. “I’m Jeffery,” the name felt odd on his tongue, foreign. He tried again. “Jeffery Dean Isbell—Jeffer—” He huffed a frustrated breath,  _it sounded wrong._ _This was all wrong._

He had been here all night, drinking his money away, stressed. Depressed. Worried.

Worried about Axl having to go back to Indiana by himself. He _shouldn’t have to do that shit alone._

He would have offered of course, but he wasn’t exactly sure he’d be welcome.

Izzy snorted, _wasn’t sure_ , more like _positive_ neither his home town (nor Axl) would welcome him with arms wide opened- after all, he had run away too under similar circumstances.

He signaled the bartender for another one.

He had nowhere to be, and no one to go home to- but he probably deserved that. Driving back to Nevada was out of the question, he didn’t have anything to go back to. All his shit was in his car anyway.

His thoughts were cut off by a smoky voice, yelling something at some brunette who had apparently stumbled in while his back was turned.

“What the fuck?! You not only show up like three hours late, but you show up stoned off your ass too?” Whoever that was, she was furious. Izzy found himself turning towards the voice and staring in awe at the woman who stood a ways off.

She radiated anger; it was coming off her in waves. Her hands rested on her supple hips and her eyes seemed to glow. She stalked towards the man, steps slow and purposeful, her shimmery golden dress reflecting light in all directions. The crowd parted for her.

Was she real? Or was he just drunk?

“Can you play your guitar for shit right now?” She asked, not exactly shouting but somehow managing to be heard over the din of the club. The man before her—though he was taller than her—seemed to shrink before her as she advanced.

He shook his head, no.

She sighed and pointed to the door “Get out. Don’t come back till you can promise me you’ll go steady.”  The man fled without another word.

Now that the scene had passed, the patrons went back to their dancing and the lady made her way over to the bar.

“A shot of whiskey, Ronny.” She snapped, snatching it and gulping it down without wincing. Her dress was even prettier up close.

 _She’s like a fairy princess_ , he thought to himself gleefully, before mentally rolling his eyes. _Wow, could I possibly be any gayer? Axl would’ve jabbed him in the side and said yes._

“Everything ok, Boss?” Ronny inquired.

“Fuck no. The boys can’t be in to play tonight,” she glanced at her watch, 12:30am, morning—whatever. “And I need someone to replace them for the next few days, I was counting on Steven to be here at least, but Duff called in about that whole mess. I got some guys to stand in but of course my guitarist,” she waved a dismissive hand in the direction of the door, “is in no condition to play.”

Izzy probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but hey, she wasn’t exactly whispering either.

“I can play.” He ventured, almost flinching when she zeroed in on him. “I can stand in.” _Fuck, she was fierce_.

She eyed him suspiciously, tone skeptical “Can you really?”

“Yes.” He replied, simply. “I’m good at it too.”

She laughed throatily, taking him in real slow. “Well, I’ll be the judge of that. Come on upstairs, I wanna hear you.”

Well that sounded a bit, sexual—he felt the urge to giggle bubbling in his chest and tamped it down. That wouldn’t be professional.

He prayed he wouldn’t stumble when he stood and celebrated in his head when he slid off the bar stool without falling flat on his face. He made to pay the bartender, but the lady waved it off. “It’s on me, name’s Michelle by the way—this is my club. Not much, but we make do.”

Izzy snorted, _not much my ass._ “I’m Izzy.” Now that sounded right, he followed her across the room, feeling a bit light-headed.

She tossed him a curious glance over her shoulder. “That’s an odd name,” _for a boy_ , she grins to herself.  “Isabella?”

Izzy ignored her, not like he hadn’t heard that one before. “Yeah. I thought it was odd too.” He replied drily, as if that explained everything. When Axl had first called him Izzy, they were just twelve and becoming close, he turned the prettiest shade of pink- _“’m not a girl.”_ Axl had stuttered an apology- scared that he might have offended his new friend so soon, but Izzy secretly liked it and the name had stuck.  He grinned at the memory.

 _Izzy_ , Axl had said, blue eyes bright and sure—and by God it sounded _right_.

_\--------------------------_

Axl was warm. Slash’s hand was a warm weight across his hip. A welcome one too.

It had been a while since he woke up warm—and he liked it. He snuggled deeper into the sheets and appreciated the scent of Slash’s cologne which was, well, everywhere. _The bed smells like you,_ he thought sluggishly, _and I ~~love~~ like it._

Other parts of him were awake too and apparently also appreciated his proximity to Slash. Laying here felt like being completely surrounded by Slasher, his cock twitched at the thought. Which, _no_ —bad timing.

The redhead groaned in frustration, muffling most of it in the fluffy pillows, he didn’t wanna move. He was content to stay in bed forever and not face his problems. He cracked an eye open and peered past the guitarist and around the dimly lit room as best as he could; it was fucking huge, luxuriously furnished. The sheets felt silky smooth against his skin, he shifted a bit and realized the bed was king sized, probably bigger (was that a thing?), they were pressed together in the middle of the bed.  For a moment he was bewildered, growing up poor and all, why would anyone _need_ a bed this big? For the occasional orgy?

 _Fucking rich people_.

Well, Slash _is_ a rockstar, it wasn’t _completely_ farfetched.

He stared at Slash’s sleeping face and grinned, he looked angelic. _Wild rockstar my ass_ , he thought to himself—remembering some articles he had come across— _Slash’s curls were probably the wildest thing about him._ They were currently hanging past his bare shoulders, curling and tangling in a wild yet beautiful frame for his face. His bangs were long, almost obscuring his closed eyelids, his pink mouth soft from sleep, breath leaving him in little puffs—Axl wondered briefly what he was dreaming about.

 _Eggs_ , his mind supplied and the redhead had to fight down the urge to chuckle. Laughter became the last thing on his mind when Slash shifted and pulled him even closer, forcing Axl’s ‘forgotten problem’ snug against his muscular thigh.

Shit, he needed to get up. _You’re already up alright,_ that ridiculous urge to burst into laughter was back with a vengeance. Axl doesn’t exactly consider jerking off in someone’s bed while they slept proper etiquette, so he tried to gently wriggle out of Slash’s grip without disturbing the man’s slumber. No dice. The guitarist just grumbled a bit and pulled Axl—impossibly—closer. His dick was very on board with those proceedings. He could probably just wake him up and get out from under his grip, but Axl felt a little stab of guilt at that train of thought.

_He stayed up all night for you, besides, he looks so cute._

“Fine,” he muttered, feeling a bit flattered, “you wanna keep me here so bad? OK. I’ll just ignore it till you wake up and make sure you take care of it.” The minutes—seemed more like fucking hours if you asked him—ticked by and his erection showed no signs of wilting, while Slash showed no signs of waking.

Unbidden, the memory of Slash between his thighs, lips stretched obscenely around his length resurfaced.

“ _Christ_.” Defeated, he rolls unto his back, almost laughing when Slash shifts with him, tucking his nose into Axl’s neck to compensate. He could feel Slash’s warm puffs of breath against his neck. He suppressed a shiver.

Axl trailed his right hand under _the sheets and into his sweatpants- had Slash loaned him these?_ —and gripped his cock, already a bit wet at the tip. _Oh that was another thing, lube._ Axl rolled his eyes—this was more trouble than it’s worth—and brought his hand up to his lips, getting it as wet as he could.

“Like I’m fucking thirteen all over again.” He whispered, grunting softly when his hand closed around his throbbing length. And as with all things involving Axl, it just snowballed from there. One second he was trying quietly to tug one out and the next he was biting his lips, hips fucking up into his fists, so close but... he needed more.

His hole clenched, and his mind reminded him that Slash had pretty nice hands, with pretty thick fingers. “Slash... _Fuck,_ ” he moaned quietly, rubbing at the delicious ridge just beneath the head that made him leak like a faucet. It was around this time—trembling and on the edge—that he realized Slash was breathing differently, heavily. His hand stilled, and he glanced to his left cautiously, knowing what he would see.

Warm brown eyes stared back at him, not blearily, or sleepily, but clear as day. “Mornin’” he said, grinning wickedly.

Axl’s face lit up like a firework, ears turning alarmingly red—especially for someone so pale. “Hi.” He panted, heart rate raised from his activities. _Kill me now please._

“Why’d you stop?” Slash asked, smirking at the little sound Axl made in his throat. He pulls the duvet aside, revealing Axl’s heated skin to the cool air. “Go on, I wanna see.”

“Slash... I-” Axl begun, but restarted his ministrations anyway. His pumped his hand faster, reaching down with his left to tug at his balls. Coming apart even faster because Slash’s steady gaze was on him, he was still laying there, lips pressed to his neck—watching. “Slash, I need...” his voice wavered.

“You need?” The guitarist replied, sucking a mark into Axl’s neck. “Whadd’ya need babe?”

“I need you to touch— _fuck_ —me, quick.” The way Axl was tilting his hips gave him a pretty good idea what he needed.

“Where?” Slash asked, just teasing now, because he could.

“You _fucking_ —just _please_ ,” he voice cracked on the plea, and the guitarist decided to take pity.

“Gimmie a sec,” He faintly registered the sound of Slash groping around to find something and giggles weakly when he recognizes what it was.

"You keep your lube under your pillow?" he choked out, smirking up at the guitarist

"You don't honestly think I have the energy to get up every time I wanna jerk of, do you?" He countered, slicking his fingers and wrinkling his nose at Axl's glare.

Axl groaned in frustration, sensing that Slash was prepared to drag this out as much as possible. "I don't fucking care, _just—could you just-”_

 _“_ Bossy,” He muttered through his grin, trailing his slick fingers towards the redhead’s quivering hole. “And needy.”

Axl flushed all the way down to his chest, causing Slash’s brown eyes to follow the trail down to one very interesting piercing.

  _Oh_ , Slash thought, _interesting_. Grinning wickedly he leaned forward and nipped gently at the rosy bud, length throbbing at the broken moans spilling from Axl’s lips. The redhead’s hips bucked wildly into his own hands. Interesting indeed.

 _Oh Fuck,_ Axl could tell from Slash’s impish grin that he was never gonna let that go. Before he could make up some bullshit excuse for his reaction, the guitarist finally slipped a finger inside him- derailing any reply he could have formulated.

“Oh _God_ ,” Axl breathed, hand almost a blur on his cock, “oh God, _fuck_ \- ‘m close—but I n-need more.” _More._ The redhead wanted to laugh so desperately but couldn’t get enough air into his lungs with all the moaning and babbling. _Please may I have more?_ He sounded like some corrupt version of Oliver Twist.

Another thick finger was worked in beside the first and the delightful stretch made Axl arch obscenely, muscles taut. Axl knew with a frightening certainty that this would be one of the loud ones, felt it in the tightness of his balls, could feel the delicious build of pressure and—

There was a knock on the door, “Pardon my intrusion,” came James crisp accent, “but you’ll both have to get up now if you don’t want to miss your flight.”

Axl’s face flamed even more, with herculean effort he stills his hand, biting back a whine.

“Ok,” the guitarist said, a wicked smile slowly gracing his lips – _oh no_ , Axl thought, _fuck no_ — when he realized Axl was trying to hold back. “I’ll just finish up real quick.”

Before Axl could puzzle over that vague statement, the brunette  thrusts his fingers sharply into Axl’s slick heat, crooking them sharply and hitting the redhead’s prostate with terrifying (if anyone asked Axl) accuracy.

“Ahhh fuck—Slash!” Try as he may, the redhead couldn’t stifle the pitiful—and extremely loud—cries he was letting out as his orgasm washed over him; cock sprouting hot liquid all over his quivering abs, ass clutching at those two wonderful fingers inside him.

Slash looked way too fucking pleased with himself, but Axl couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He squirmed, humiliated when his ass resisted Slash pulling out, _could this get any worse?_ Slash shuffled around and returned with a flannel—he then proceeded to clean Axl the best he could.

It apparently could. James voice was still there, sounding very amused “Very well, I’ll start breakfast.”

“Oh my God.” He managed to choke out, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Not God, just Slash.”  The brunette sneered, all too amused by Axl’s embarrassment. “Although... many people _do_ refer to me as a God.”

“I fucking hate you!” Axl barked, glaring from behind his fingers—that just caused the guitarist to laugh harder.

“Well, I’m sure James could tell by the way you were screaming my nam—”

Axl launched himself at Slash who was too surprised to dodge; they collided and rolled around on the large bed together, a tangled mess of limbs.

“You... you my good man, are no gentleman.” Axl hissed—eyes filled with mirth, as he straddled Slash’s hips. “And I pity any egg who thinks so.”

“Ahh, but you thought so, didn’t you?” He countered, staring adoringly at the man above him. His red hair was a mess, a mass of tangles sticking in every direction, his blue-green eyes wide and a faint flush still tinged his skin.

“Just for a short time.” He replied distractedly, just noticing Slash’s hard on was pressed against his thigh. Wriggling around, he tried to slot it right between his ass checks—where it belonged (if you asked him).

Panicking, Slash stopped him quickly, “hey babe, no time, you heard the man. You’re gonna miss your flight.”

Axl froze, head tilted in curiosity, because what in the ever-loving fuck was Slasher talking about?

And that’s when he remembered. Reality finally set in, his flight to Indiana; he was going to see his mum. His dying mum.

“Ah.” His shoulders sagged and his once rosy cheeks were suspiciously pale. “That flight.” _I’ll be all alone_ , was all he could think. And sure, it was a bit selfish— _but haven’t you always been?_ A malicious voice hissed, finally making a reappearance. It had not been missed.

Slash wanted to kick himself for ever mentioning it; the moment was dead and gone now. “Hey, look at me. It’s ok, I’m coming with you.”

Axl’s heart rate doubled, he couldn’t really mean...? Timidly, he glanced up at Slash from beneath his lashes. “What are you saying?”

Slash snorted, “It means you’re not going alone, dumbass. You’re stuck with me now, sorry.”

The redhead didn’t dwell much on his teasing, because all he could hear was ‘ _you’re not going alone’_ and those four words were all it took to bring a smile back to his face—though it was admittedly weaker than the first. “Are you sure?” he asked, just because he had to. Slash had to know what he was getting into. “Don’t you have work, or more important things to do? I mean, Lafayette is a pretty boring little town man—”

The guitarist cut him off, “It’s fine. You’re important, and I can’t see any trip with you being boring.”

Axl’s face lit up causing Slash’s heart to race in his chest. _Shit_ , he thought, he was dangerously invested in this thing they shared. It had scarcely been a month and a half and he’d already fallen ass over heels.

 _Remind you of anyone_? A small voice asked. _A certain someone who had your heart from the first smile and then proceeded to rip it apart bit by—_

“Let’s go, come on, Duff is bringing your shit over.” He said, voice a bit strained, but it’d have to do. “Shower, then food.”

\----------------

"I trust you enjoyed your rest?" James chirped, smirking wickedly. 

"Oh, I know I did." Slash replied, smiling into his coffee. "What about you Axl dearest?"

"Fuck. You." Axl enunciated, chewing his cereal slowly. He paused mid-chew, eyes flicking to James whose nose was buried in the paper.

Slash chuckled, "don't worry about him, he's heard worse. He's _ex-military_ after all."

Axl flushed despite Slash's assurances, "you're the one who provoked me anyway."

"It's cause you're adorable."

"No flirting at the table." The elder man commented, lowering his paper. "It's unladylike."

The redhead barked a startled laugh, pressing a hand to him mouth on reflex. "Sorry, guess laughing with a mouthful is unladylike too."

"You get a free pass because I like you." James said simply, grey eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Hey what about me?" Slash whined, lips poised in an exaggerated pout. "Aren't I adorable?"

 _Fuck yes_ , Axl thought, but refused to answer nonetheless.

James snorted "No." The doorbell sounded and without another word he left the table, ignoring Slash's stuttered complaints. 

"He's so mean to me all the time," Slash declared, pushing his food around his plate. "I don't even know what he sees in you."

Axl teasingly stuck out his tongue, shivering when he saw Slash's eyes track its movements. "Never sated are you?"

"Never." the guitarist confirmed, leaning over for soft kiss which was interrupted when James reentered the room with Duff.

"Cant leave you two alone for one minute." The blonde commented, " peering over James' head- that fucker still managed to tower over everyone.

"You." Axl said drily, pulling  reluctantly away from Slash.

"Me." Duff confirmed, golden hair contrasting with the stark paleness of his skin. "I brought your shit, they're in the living room."

Something was up. Axl walked over to the bassist, hugged him quickly and pecked his cheek. "What's wrong, Goldie?

He shook his head, avoiding the redhead's prying gaze. "Nothing important. You? How are you holding up kiddo?" Axl let it slide, Duff was not the type to be prodded and poked, he'd talk in his own time.

"I'm fine, I'm holding up fine right now but..." He glanced at Slash and forced a laugh, "I suspect I wasn't yesterday."  Slash warmed him with a simple smile. Yeah, he'd be alright.

"Hey, you're OK." Duff whispered, enveloping Axl in a tight hug. "Gosh, I wish I could go with you."

"Yeah," Axl sighed, nosing Duff's neck. "But it's ok, Slash is coming with me. I'm not alone." _God, how good it felt to say those words._

 _"Is he now?"_ Duff asked, pulling away to send some secret message to Slash with just his eyes. Axl didn't know what the fuck happened after they left the apartment yesterday, but it sure seemed like those two had got a lot closer. He smiled silently.  _That's good_ , he thought. _At least Duff wasn't threatening to castrate him anymore. "_ Why don't you go through the stuff I packed, see if i left anything out."

Axl rolled his eyes at Duff's attempt to get him out of the room, but humored him nonetheless.

As soon as he left the room, Slash approached Duff, voice dropped to a hard whisper. "How is he?"

"God, he, " Duff sighed, looking exhausted. He swiped his hand over his face, "I had to bring him to Michelle's, couldn't leave him alone. He used;he's practically dying for a hit right now. Back to square fucking one."

Slash shook his head, "He needs to go to rehab, or it's never going to end. You know that right?"

Duff eyes flashed in anger, "You don't think I fucking _know_ that, huh? I ain't got the money for that shit-- rehab aint fucking cheap-" he cut himself off sharply, pausing to take a deep breath. "Shit, I'm sorry, I just... shit." He realized that his fist was clenched, nails digging into his palm.

"It's ok. No worries." Slash replied thoughtfully, considering for the first time that Steven might not be the _only_ one craving a hit- but that was for another time. "About Rehab... how would you feel if I- if I volunteered to pay for it?" 

Duff blinked, staring in astonishment. "I- I don't know. I'd need time... to- please don't just drop a bomb like that."

The brunette chuckled, "Yeah, think about it- but I reckon you don't have much time."

"Yeah..." he whispered, smiling that sad smile again. "Anyway, that's not why I sent the kids to the next room, I wanted to talk to you." he waits for Slash to nod before continuing. " I just, I wanna thank you for going with Axl, but man I gotta warn you... He might get a bit- er... hostile."

Axl? Hostile? Unheard of.

Slash's look of disbelief caused Duff to chuckle, "listen man, believe me, the fucker doesn't look it but he can be a mean one. He'll lash out if he feels hurt, scared or cornered." _And believe me, it isn't a pretty sight. "_ What I'm saying is, he can get downright malicious, and that place- the things that happened there, it's sure to bring out that streak even more. So please, don't- you can't really be too hard on him for the things he might say in certain situations,ok? He doesn't mean it- the kid has seen some shit... I-" he broke off with a sigh. 

The guitarist was a bit confused, but he think he got the gist. 

Duff nodded, voice hardening "and for fuck's sake, don't leave him alone with the old man, _not for one second_."

"No worries, I wont. Not ever." he pledged, voice dripping sincerity.

"Good." A smile crinkled the corners of Duff's eyes, "and while you're at it, please attempt to fuck some of the attitude out of the little wanker."

"What attitude?" Axl asked snootily, sauntering into the room. "Were you little shits gossiping?"

"Yes." The replied drily in unison. 

Axl's sharp gaze flicked from one to the other "Anyway, Alfred says we should be heading to the airport now, so load your asses into the car."

Slash quickly grabbed his jacked from the back of the chair and shrugged it on. He managed to get all his hair into one low ponytail and pull a baseball cap over it before pulling the hoodie over his head. He told James to book an early flight so they could avoid the crowd, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Axl cocked his head at his lover, only thin black wisps of his hair was visible and the cap was pulled low. With his glasses on, he really looked like a regular guy, a real shady(and beautiful) one, but regular nonetheless. "You look like a loser."

"And you'll have to be seen with me in public so the joke's on you." He shot back, grinning widely. Axl's heart did a whole series of acrobatics.

"You two disgust me." Duff commented casually, making fake gagging noises.

"Shut up, Blondie and load yourself into the car."

 _Oh_. There was an awkward silence, Duff winced. "Sorry babe, I can't see you off. I've got some things..."

"Stuff more important than me?" The vocalist teased, forcing the note of hurt out of his voice. Duff being there would really help things a lot and he was kinda looking forward to it.

Duff considered saying _Nope, it's just my junkie boy friend,_ but bit his tongue at the last minute. He glanced at Slash for assistance.

"Yeah, he mentioned making up for the times you guys didn't clock in with Mich." He supplied, smoothing the lie over with a smile.

Axl frowned, memories of their practice resurfacing. Didn't they have a show tonight? "Oh, Shit! I cant just take an impromptu trip when-"

"Hey, it's ok. I took care of it, you dont have to worry."

Axl's shoulders slumped in relief, "Thanks man,you're a lifesaver... So I guess this is goodbye eh Blondie?" The redhead had no idea why leaving for this trip felt like leaving to attend his own funeral, but it was seriously making him antsy. 

"Yeah man, just don't think you'll be rid of me. I want a call as soon as you land!"  He commanded, chuckling as he embraced the singer once more.

"Bossy."

"I have to be."

"Fine."

"OK."

They would have gone on if Jame's honking didn't interrupt. "Tell Stevie I said hi please, and kiss him for me."

The bassist flinched, but schooled his expression in record time- this shit would only put more strain on Axl. "I will, I'll fuck him for you too."

Axl rolled his eyes and shudders, "I did _not_ say that."

"Yeah yeah, but I heard it." The trio walked out to the front yard, Slash was laughing silently as the men argued childishly. 

"Well..." Axl said, pausing at the door of the car-no limo this time, it'd attract too much attention. "See ya."

"Yeah, punk. Fly safe." Duff choked, voice laden with guilt - _I should be there for him, I shouldn't be letting him go back into that mess._ But then there was Steven, and he felt an irrational stab of anger at the man, followed directly by shame.

They stood there, staring at each other for a while, Duff's green eyes too bright and wet, while Axl's baby blues were filled with apprehension. The redhead was still grinning though, that trademark 'I'm-Axl-Motherfuckin-Rose' grin of his, and Duff's heart ached for him at that moment more than ever. They didn't speak, but in that moment, a whole conversation took place.

Duff watched him drive off, watched long after he was gone, eyes filled with tears and the oppressive heat of LA's scorching sun beating down on his back. For the first time in a long time, out there in the open, he prayed. 

For himself.

For Steven.

For Slash.

and most of all, for Axl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that picture is for all those who think Slash can't fit all that hair under a cap- he most certainly fucking can :D  
> that picture is also there cause Slash is hot, *loud cheers from crowd of fangirls/boys*


	12. Chapter 12

After his impromptu prayer, Duff hopped on his bike and made his way back to Michelle's, mumbling a half-hearted greeting to the few people lingering downstairs. He needed to see Steven. Have a little chat about this whole rehab gig, maybe convince him to stay in this time. He was startled from his reeling thoughts when throw open the door to Mich's private room and saw Izzy sitting there-- looking too fucking comfortable for Duff's liking.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he snapped, raking the room for Steven. No dice. _Where the fuck was he, damnnit?_ Duff did not like the sinking feeling in his stomach and Izzy's impassiveness wasn't helping his case.

The brunette glanced lazily at him and took a long drag on his cigarette.

"I'm sitting." he said nonchalantly, thumbing through a magazine. "Having a smoke while I'm at it too." He must have noticed Duff's 'i'm going to punch you in the face' glare, because he abruptly stopped flipping and met Duff's gaze head on. Waiting.

"Why are you here in LA Izzy?" he asked again, a little less forcefully this time.

He Shrugged, reclining in the sofa. "There's nothing for me to go back to in Nevada. So I thought, why not?" Before Duff could question him further, Izzy uncurled from the sofa, stretching obscenely, his shirt riding up and exposing a sliver of pale skin. The blond swallowed, thoughts derailing completely. Izzy noticed and smirked, "Nice to see you haven't changed."

Well that stung like a bitch.

Unbidden, the memory of Axl, doped up and crying on the couch assailed him. 

_"Where's Izzy?" he asked, prying the bottle of Jim Beam from Axl's iron grasp. "What happened?"_

_"He's fucking gone! He left me-" the redhead glared at him, eyes red and puffy. "He said he wouldn't ever leave, but he fucking did." Duff couldn't breathe for the longest while, he was waiting expectantly for Axl to spring up and chortle, tell him it was another on of his pranks. But he didn't, instead he slumped there on the couch, looking broken and painfully alone._

_"Axl," he tried, barely able to speak around the lump in his throat. Izzy was gone? Izzy? Impossible. "I- I'm so fucking sorry-"_

_Axl's  bleary eyes focused on him, and he stumbled backwards. His eyes were filled with rage, hatred, malicious intent. "No you fuckin' aint! Yer glad he left me!" he whispered, as if sharing a dirty secret. "I see the way you fuckin' look at him when ya think I aint lookin! You're glad he left me aren't you Mikey? 'Cause YOU want him for your fuckin' self you son of a bitch!"_

 

"Duff?" Izzy was much closer now, his familiar scent torturing the bassist. He wanted, needed to hold him. Duff chuckled bitterly, _yeah, I guess I haven't changed at all._

"Get away from me." He said coldly, feeling a dark satisfaction when Izzy stumbled backwards- shocked. It didn't last long though, his overwhelming need to hold Izzy returned stronger than ever. "I'm sorry, I'm just... hey have you seen the blonde guy I was with yesterday around here?" _Steven. Wasn't that what you came for, you traitor?_

The brunette blinked, taken aback by he sudden change of subject. "Uhh... yeah, I think he's with Michelle somewhere." Izzy peered at him curiously with those unsettling eyes. "He's a junkie isn't he?" he said simply.

Duff eyed him in disdain "You'd know, you're the fucking drug dealer." Shit, that came out harsher than he intended.

Izzy laughed his deep rumbling laugh, not offended for a second. And fuck if that didn't affect Duff in every possible way. "Yeah, I was; So yes, I'm right."

The corner of his lips twitched and shortly after they both burst into gut-aching laughter. "Your shitty attitude hasn't changed either."

"I'm afraid not." Izzy said mildly, just smiling at Duff for a minute. "You took care of Axl, thank you."

 _Fuck no!_ he wanted to scream, _you don't get to pull shit like that and just waltz back into our lives_. He settles for "He grows on you" instead. 

Izzy snorted, savoring a final drag of his cigar before putting it out "like cancer, sure."

Duff shook his head, marveling at how surreal this conversation was. Here he was with the man he loved-the man that broke his Axl's heart, broke his heart, made an impromptu visit to fuck with Axl some more- having a nice little chat. He wanted to laugh, and laugh and laugh and maybe cry a little afterwards. _God Izzy, do you even know what you've done to me? to him?  He almost killed himself that night, but you weren't there._

 _Steven_ , the little voice insisted again, louder this time.

"I have to go" he retreated to the door before Izzy could stop him, heck a single glance was all it took. 

Izzy looked crestfallen, "It's ok, we'll see each other around." Duff closed the door without another word, wishing vehemently he never saw Izzy at all. Because now, it would be impossible to _un-see_ him and he'd plague his thought for the remainder of the day. His life maybe. Izzy was back, and it didn't look like he was planning to leave either. Fuck.

 _"we'll see each other around"_ he had said, Duff frowned, and it all fell in place.

He was upstairs, in the private room- no one was allowed access unless they were employees. And unless Izzy had learned some other skill than guitar-playing and drug dealing, he would be joining the fucking band.

Well, aint that swell?

\----------------

It was almost comical, the way it finally happened. And of course, it was all fucking Axl’s fault- no matter how many times Slash assured him it wasn’t. They were walking briskly through the airport—luggage already checked in—towards the boarding area when Slash, lightening quick, had leaned down to whisper some crude joke in Axl’s ear to lighten the mood.

Axl, unable to contain his laughter, had giggled delightedly and crowed, “Oh, Shut the fuck up Slash!”

On a regular day, this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but, at this hour of the morning, the airport was quiet—passengers’ either too sleepy or too grumpy to chatter needlessly. Axl didn’t even register his mistake until there was a flash of a camera outta nowhere. Slash recognized what it was in a second and positively growled at the perpetrator.

The teenage girl grinned brazenly, waved and snapped about three other pictures. Slash was seriously considering grabbing the phone and depositing it in her coffee, but the damage has already been done. All around him he could hear the murmurs of passengers beginning to recognize there was a celebrity in their midst and it had never grated on his nerves more than today.

He quickly grabbed Axl’s hand and urged him forward. “Let’s board, now.” The redhead was a bit confused for a minute—cause was he, small town delinquent A. Rose, getting papped?—but stumbled behind Slash, trying to keep up with his strides.

“Hey, Slash? Who’s yer company? Kinda pretty eh?” Some random guy yelled in a dirty tone from behind them causing Axl to try to twist backward to ask ‘who the fuck wants to know?’

“Is that your newest lay? Yo Slash!” The man was grinning widely, camera trained on the couple. “You’re standing pretty close to each other.”

Slash tugged on his arm, a bit harshly. “Ignore them, don’t look. It’s already gone to shit. Let’s just hope we’re not on the same flight.” He muttered the last bit under his breath, forcing a smile for the pretty lady at the counter. She barely even glanced at their documents before she allowed them to enter, fluttering her lashes at Slash.

 _You stupid bitch_ , Axl thought, annoyed by her brazen flirting. _Not even doing your job right ‘cause you’re too busy trying climb on MY man’s di-_

“Here.” Slash’s whisper interrupted his thought. Their seats were the third from the front, nice and spacious and _oh so_ first class. The other first class passengers didn’t even glance up as they sat down. The man from earlier didn’t follow.

Axl got the window seat—Slash had made sure of it after having guessed that Axl had never flown before.

“Slasher?” He made sure to whisper this time, “I’m sorry.”

Slash waved him off, “It’s ok. I expected it sooner or later, just not this soon.”

Axl couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt. _Expected him to mess up?_

Slash glanced at the redhead’s crestfallen face and rushed to clarify. “Jeez, not that. I expected to be spotted, but I guess not today, ya know? We were keeping it all on the down low.”

Axl smirked a bit, feeling a little better. “This is the down low?” he murmured, eyeing their seating arrangements.

Slash just tilted his head in that curious little way of his, “Well, yeah. It’s not a full flight and—”

“But, this is first class.” Axl frowned, “wait a minute, if this is the down low, what’s the norm exactly?”

Slash grinned wickedly, wiggling his eyebrows, “the private jet.” Axl could feel the laughter bubbling up inside him, _this man couldn’t possibly be serious_. But there Slash was, looking at him in that infinitely patient way of his. The laughter died in his throat.

“Oh shit, you’re serious.”

The guitarist couldn’t understand for the life of him why Axl thought he wouldn’t be. “That I am.”

“Oh my God.” Axl blinked rapidly, he knew Slash was rich but what the fuck?

“Not God, just Slash.” The brunette whispered, watching Axl’s face heat up as his words registered.

Axl shifted towards the window, absolutely refusing to face Slash’s cackles. He glanced outside, and seeing nothing of interest finally relented. He turns around to face the guitarist, eyes narrowed to slits.

“You’re horrid.”

Slash quirked a brow, “You love it.” The redhead shrugged, scooting closer to the brunette and laying his head on his shoulder. He wasn’t sleepy, but honestly, he’d rather sleep than consider what was going to happen when this plane landed. If he was being real with himself, he’d rather have this flight go down in flames. He thought it best not to mention this to Slash though, that probably wouldn’t tide over well.

“You okay?” Slash asked, tapping away rapidly at his phone. Texting Myles perhaps.

“Yeah? Yeah, I could be worse.” _I could be dreaming this whole thing ever happened and wake up in my dingy room back in Lafayette_. And _fuck_ , was he scared. Not so much of his mother, he was never scared of her. Not of Stephen... well not _only_ of Stephen. But he had this irrational fear that if he went back, he would _never_ be able to leave again. Like Lafayette was one of those Chinese finger trap thingies, the ones that are supposedly impossible to escape.

_Fuck, What if I can’t get out? What if Slash doesn’t want me after..._

After what exactly? After he sees me for what I really am?

Bullshit. He’d already gotten out once, and he could do it again.

 _But did you really?_ That familiar voice sing-songed, almost childishly. _After all, Lafayette tracked you allllll the way to LA and now you’re on a flight back. Not because **you** want to go back, but be_ _cause **it** wants you back. Right back to where you **belong**. You **can’t** just escape, it **clings** to your skin and you can’t just wash it off—_

“Woah, Axl?” Slash called for perhaps the tenth time. The redhead was pale, eyes too bright, nails digging into Slash’s biceps. “Hey, come back. You’re with me.” Axl blinked as if emerging from a daydream, chewing on his lower lip. He quickly relaxed his grip.

He breathed deeply. _Way to go fuck things up already. Christ, you’re already scaring him away._ “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The guitarist gently kissed his cheek and pushed loose strands of his hair behind his ears. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“Well I-” he begun, pausing. “I...for your arm?”

Slash snorted, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.” He said nothing more of it, just sat there, warm brown eyes observing him patiently. Not judging, or trying to pry, just waiting. Urging him to share what’s on his mind, no judgment here.

“I’m scared.” He blurted, biting his lip, eyes wide. “I’m real fucking scared, ok?”

Slash’s heart clenched at the admission and he struggled to regain composure. The brunette nodded, “Ok.” He intertwined their fingers, and smiled the best that he could. “It’s ok to be scared, shit I’m scared too. But, we can talk about it if you want?”

Axl nodded slowly, “that’d be OK.”

“OK?”

He poked the guitarist’s side, “OK.”

At that moment, it was all OK.

\------------------------

The remainder of the flight passed without incident, Axl spent most of it staring out the window in awe, occasionally nudging Slash and pointing out something or the other.

Slash smiled to himself, Axl looked like a child on his first trip to an amusement park, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed.

“Hey Slash,” the redhead leaned into his personal space, “doesn’t that cloud look like a dick?” The elderly lady across from them glanced over disapprovingly as Slash proceeded to bury his face into Axl’s neck and chortle.  The redhead met the old lady’s gaze head on, smiling charmingly. Her frown wavered and soon enough she was mirroring his smile.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Slash raised his head to glimpse at the lady before quickly lowering it.

“It’s all in the eyes, man.” Axl replied, widening them comically. “They get lost tryna figure out the color.”

The guitarist decided to test that theory. Frowning, he leaned a bit closer, getting a close up view of the redhead’s long lashes and kaleidoscopic eyes. He was almost losing himself in those large pools of blue, but then Axl tilted his head a bit and in the light his eyes looked a startling shade of emerald. Slash leaned closer, because that was fucking impossible right? But there was no trace of cobalt there. Axl smirked, leaning closer, lips inches away from Slash—but the brunette took no notice of that, because now, the shadows had changed again and his eyes looked gray, and like before there was no trace of green—

Axl’s sinfully deep voice dragged him from his trance. “See?”

Yeah, he’d been caught.

 Pouting, the brunette pulled away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The redhead struggled to keep his voice steady, “I’m sure you don’t.” He returned to his sightseeing, though Slash had no idea what was so interesting about clouds anyway.  But for Axl, it was a treat. Like a whole different world up here, he wanted nothing more than to just hop out and walk across the carpet of clouds. Maybe stay up here forever.

After a quick stop in Dallas, they were back in the air and headed straight to Indiana. The closer they got, the more Axl retreated into himself. Slash tried talking him through it:

“Uhm, so do you have horses?”

“On the farm? Yeah.” Slash noticed he never really called it home.

He couldn’t help feeling excited “Can I ride them?”

Axl grinned, albeit weakly. “Hmm... I’ll think about it.”

“Fuck you.” Slash intoned, rolling his eyes at the redhead’s antics. “Why do I even bother?”

They beamed at each other, the answer to that one was obvious—though none of them dared share it first.

\-------------------

The shrill ringing of the phone cut through the heavy silence of the house, startling Amy out of her dazed state. Gathering herself, she headed towards the living room to pick up, stumbling a bit over the baby’s toys and cursing vehemently under her breath. It better not be a fucking salesman again, because so help her God she would tell him exactly where to shove his fuc-

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was definitely not the douche salesman from earlier.

“Uh... Hello?” The voice sounded equal parts uncertain and annoyed. “Are ya gonna fucking answer or-”

“I see your dirty mouth hasn’t changed.” Amy snapped, hands shaking where she gripped the phone too tightly. “God... is that... Axl?”

“Hey Ames,” She could hear the grin in his voice, along with a slight tremor. “Been a while, eh?”

“A... A _while_? Axl Rose, It’s been two fucking years and you call that _a while_?” She couldn’t even be angry properly, Amy was laughing gleefully through her tears. “ _You_ , where the hell are you?”

“Lafayette, Izzy gave me the news...” he trailed off, not sure how to continue. “Anyway, I’m here, and I’m coming to visit tomorrow. Prepare lots of food ok?”

Amy snorts, leaning against the wall, a grin plastered on her face. “Your stomach still a bottomless pit Billy?” She slipped up before she could stop herself and a tense silence stretched between them. He had asked her, years ago when she was just 13 to call him Axl.

_“Bill Bailey? That aint me sweetheart, that’s just who those bastard wants me to be.”_

_Amy looked up at him, doe-eyed and confused, “Whadda’ya mean Billy?”_

_He ignored her “That fucker aint even my real pop, boy have I been fucking stupid!” His words dripped venom and he continued pacing her small room like mad._

_Her eyes widened and her bottom lip quivered, “Does that mean we aint fam’ly no more?”_

_He stared at her as if she had grown another head, “What are ya talking about silly?” Axl pinched her cheek in that way he knew irritated her. “You’re my little sister. Always. And that’s that.”_

“Hello? Amy?”

“Huh? You say something Ax?”

“Still a space brain huh Ames?” Axl teased, groaning before repeating. “I said I’m staying at the... er Hilt-wood something.”

“It’s Homewood by Hilton, Jeez it isn’t that hard.” A faint voice added in the background. Oh? Company?

Intrigued, Amy nimbly made her way to the sofa, avoiding the scattered toys on the floor. “Uhm Axl, Homewood? That’s expensive as fuck; pardon my asking how you’re paying for that.” She listened to him stutter for a while, before adding “And who the hell is that? Doesn’t sound like Jeff.”

“Oh uhm...” Axl sounded sheepish, “I brought a... friend of mine with me. He took care of it.”

She tensed, gritting her teeth. “ _Friend_?” She darted a quick glance around the room and lowered her voice. “What kind of friend Ax? Are you in trouble? Is it—is he one of _those_ kinds o-”

“Christ, Amy, no. Listen—we’re, he’s _not_ a fucking john ok?” He snapped, Amy could practically feel him radiating waves of irritation through the phone.

_Touchy subject. Fuck. Way to go Amy, It hasn't even been ten minutes and you've pissed him off._

“Hey, I’m sorry ok? I’m just worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He replied drily, changing the subject. “How is she?”

Amy quirked a brow though he couldn't see it “Dying.”

The silence stretched on before they both dissolved into paroxysms of laughter. “ _Christ_ kid.” Axl said, awe-filled.

Unfortunately for Amy, her laughter woke up the baby and its piercing wails cut through the air _. Fuck._

“Listen, Axe. We’ll talk tomorrow—I gotta go!”

“Hey—what? Is that a fucking bab—” She hung up before he could question her further, rushing towards the baby’s crib and tripping over some more toys in the process. But all be dammed if that could wipe the ridiculous grin off her face—Axl came back.

And that’s all that mattered.

\--------------------------

Axl lowered the phone and stared out their hotel window in silence.

Well this was fucking awkward.

Slash was right behind him on the bed, he knew with certainty that Slash heard that ‘john’ comment and was probably thinking the worst. But how exactly did one strike up a conversation about that.  _‘So uh, my sister thought you were my client and that I was fucking you in return for this room; it’s not exactly farfetched though, because I sorta used to do that back then. Haha. Wanna get some food?’_

Minutes ticked by and Slash made no mention of anything, Axl—worried now—turned to see what the ever-loving fuck he was up to. He was instantly caught in the brunette’s intense gaze.

The words spilled out before he could stop them. “Sorry about that. About the john thing, I know you heard.”

Slash nodded, expression unreadable. “Yeah ok.” He frowned, “Why would she have said that though?” Slash knew he should probably leave well enough alone. But Axl looked so laden with guilt, eyes downcast, mouth pressed in a thin line, restless fingers pulling at the loose threads in his shirt.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to pay for all this—” he gestures to the luxurious room “—alone. Thanks again, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. We already discussed that.”The guitarist beckoned him over, and the redhead went, eyes still dropped to the floor. He curls himself into Slash’s side and tucks his head under Slash’s chin.  They lay in silence, enjoying each other’s proximity, breathing almost in perfect sync.

“I uh— actually-” he cleared his throat and tries to start again. “I used to have to – ya know--do certain stuff to get money for a while, after I dropped out. It wasn’t exactly decent work or whatever, but it got us by in a rough time. Mom wasn’t working, and it was pretty hard.”

He expected Slash to recoil and probably walk out but the brunette just held him tighter, hand rubbing soothing circles into his back.

Axl played with the hem of Slash’s shirt, “Amy figured it out, but I made her promise not to tell or anything. I mean it helped send her to school and all.” His voice got progressively lower, “So she’s just worried, ya know? Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Slash kissed the top of his head, “Yeah babe, I know. It’s honestly ok. You did what you had to; it’s all in the past. Doesn’t matter now.”

 _Yeah_ , he though bitterly. _Yet Here we are, visiting the fucking past where everything you’ve ever done comes back to bite you in the ass._

“Hey, Gingersnap.” Slash knew he was pushing it now, but couldn’t stop. He needed to know. “That morning in the car, when you implied that people had forced you? Is this what—was it about this?” He could feel the redhead tensing after every word, but thankfully he didn’t push away.

Axl nodded almost imperceptibly, unable to force words from his throat. Words made it all too real.

_But this isn’t the only thing you were talking about, was it? Why don’t you tell your little ‘friend’ the whole truth, hmmm?_

“Shut the fuck up!”

Slash blinked, Duff’s words ringing in his ears. “Hey, ok. I won’t ask anything else.”

“Fuck, Slash not you... it’s just...” _What?_ The voice teased, _the voices in your head? I’m sure that’s normal, I’m sure that wouldn’t send him packing._ Axl bit back a sob and burrowed deeper into Slash’s embrace. Oh yeah, he was fucking hating this already—felt just like home alright.

\---------------------------

Slash was fucking sick of it. The tense silences and the oppressive atmosphere. He needed to do something, or he’d go out of his mind.

Slash pounced on Axl when he steps out of the bathroom a few minutes later, catching him by the hip and pulling him closer. “Let’s so something, what can a guy do for fun in Lafayette?”

The redhead uttered a sharp bark of laughter, “Shit, this dumb town is as dead as they come.” He muttered, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “You really wanna do something dumb?” Slash nodded his assent, nuzzling Axl’s neck. “Ok, be right back.”

Axl pulled away leaving a startled Slash standing in the centre of their hotel room. “O....k then?”

After about thirty minutes of sitting in silence, Slash heard Axl’s knock and opened the door. “What the heck did you do?”

The redhead grinned at him, a sly little thing. “We’re doing something dumb.” Lacing their fingers together and making a big show of peering around the room, he yanked Slash towards the bed.

Amused, the guitarist followed, allowing himself to be arranged on the bed. Satisfied, Axl reached into his pocket and pulled out some joints. “Tada!”

Slash begun laughing so hard that Axl started to legitimately worry about his health. “Weed? That’s the dumb thing?”

Axl grinned cheekily, “How do you think I passed the time here? Now shut up and play some music while we light up.”

They lay there, blasting Led Zeppelin and clinging to each other. Giggling at everything and nothing, sharing quick kisses and dumb jokes that wouldn’t have been funny under any other circumstances.

“Hey man, think that when Robert says ‘ _let me be your back door man_ ’ he was talking about butt sex?”

Axl had no idea why ‘butt sex’ was the funniest word he ever heard—but it was. “Totally. Hey Slasher? Should we have butt sex? You have a nice butt.” He tried to touch said butt, but Slash was laying on his back. Bummer.

The brunette tilted his head, seriously considering it. “Are you horny right now?” He whispered, muffling a giggle in Axl’s hair when he nods—face an alarming shade of red. “Oh wow me too.”

“Should we—?” Axl rubs a bit on Slash’s leg, laughing hysterically. “Ok no, no. We’re not 16.”

“We’re acting like it.” Slash retorted, pulling Axl on top of him. “Might as well get fully into character.” And how did one go about arguing with such superb knowledge? So, Axl gave in, grinding against Slash and watch wide-eyed and pleasure transformed the brunette’s face. Muscles lax, lips parted and issuing such wonderful sounds.

“We should get out of these pants.”

“That would defeat the— _fuck_ —whole ‘we’re sixteen’ thing.” Slash muttered, giggling when’ Axl’s arms gave out and their forehead’s collided. “You sure have a hard head.”

Axl felt light and giddy, like he was floating way up there with the clouds, just like he had wanted to earlier “I truly hate you.” Slash tugged him into a kiss, mouth hot and scorching over Axl’s and tasting of weed. The redhead moaned, deepening this kiss, ‘cause _this_ they could do all day. He didn’t want to think, not about anyone or anything else other than Slash’s smell, his curls tickling Axl’s cheek, the feel of Slash beneath him and—

There was a polite rap at the door, “Room service." She sounded a bit uncertain after the long stretch of silence, "We got a call from this room?”

Two pairs of eyes landed on the joints in the ash tray and then back on each other. The both burst into gut-wrenching laughter. Oh fuck. Did they order room service? They might have, one of them must have thought it would be funny to.

“Uhm, what did we order exactly?” Slash asked between laughs, shoving Axl off him and trying to sound not-stoned.

The lady sounded perplexed, “Well, cake.”

“Cake?” Axl deadpanned, glancing at Slash. Yeah, that was all him. The brunette had the decency to look guilty.

“Yes sir, uhm you asked for a slice of every type of cake we had.”  The woman had scarcely finished the sentence before they were erupting into giggles again. This was déjà vu, their first date and that greasy burger joint came to mind.

“Could you just leave it by the door? We’ll uh—” _giggle “_ —we’ll pick it up.” Opening the door would definitely lead to questions about the unmistakable scent of good grass. Slash stumbled over to the window and flung them open. “Woah! Is that a polar bear?”

A polar bear? In Indiana? In the Summer?

Axl really hoped the poor lady hadn’t heard that.

“Uhm ok, I will. Call if you need anything else.” Her tone clearly begged them to do no such thing, and the couple shared an amused looked. Shortly after, they heard her footsteps clicking away.

“Fuck that was close.” Slash murmured.

“That fun enough for ya, man?”

“Not yet, but now there’s cake, so it's a real party.”

Axl could only shake his head and grin in response. This didn’t seem so bad after all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s: I have 7 fluffy kittens, I'm naming the golden one Axl. No one cares... but i'm just letting you know :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The picture is super important to this chapter.... ok maybe not _super_ important..  
>  but it's cute too..  
> I listened to a lot of KISS while writing this... the effects are obvious

Axl, for the first time ever, woke up before Slash.

 _Yeah but we’ve only slept together twice, and we can all agree he was just pretending to sleep that second time._ The redhead grinned at the memory, he moved around the room as quietly as possible, frequently glancing out the brunette to make sure he was still out cold.

 _I should probably leave a note or something... so he knows I’m not dead._ Axl shrugged the thought away, he’d only be gone a minute or two. He watched Slash’s scrunched up face and rolled his eyes, pulling the duvet up to the guitarist’s shoulders. A swim would help calm him a bit before this little visit. Besides, while he was here, he might as well see all this hotel had to offer, Slash was paying who-the-fuck-knows how much for it anyway.

With that final thought, he was gone, taking care to close the door as silently as possible behind him.

When Slash managed to wake from his cake-coma, Axl was gone. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up, scanning the room for his little ginger.

No Axl.

He shrugged into a shirt and paced the suite, searching to no avail.

No Axl.

He stepped into the hallway, scantily clad but not giving a single fuck. That age old fear begun to set in again, slowly.

Still, no Axl.

Heart going a mile a minute, he retreated to their suite and slammed the door, leaning against it for a long while before he dared move again. He combed the suite a second time, then a third.

No Axl.

Fuck, he even threw the closet open, looked behind the shower curtain, into every nook and cranny—as if the man could have folded himself a few times over and hide in the most impossible of places.

No Axl.

Wide awake and full on panicking, he sprinted to his phone and attempted to text the redhead—hands trembling badly. All the while mentally berating himself— _shit shit shit, what’d I do? Why’d he leave? Why don’t they ever stay?_

 **Slash:** _Axl, where are you?_

 **Slash:** _Are you okay? Did I do something?_

 **Slash:** _I’m sorry._

 **Slash:** _Please come back._

 _Wow, be a little more clingy and desperate. I’m sure that’ll get him back._ The brunette’s hands were in his hair now, tugging at random curls as he waited for a reply.

A minute went by...

Then five...

Then fifteen...

No Axl.

“You’re being ridiculous.” He told himself out loud, voice sounding weak and unconvincing even to his own ears. “He probably just went to get breakfast.”

_We have a kitchen. He could have just ordered if he didn’t feel like cook-_

“He went for a walk.” Slash barked, his voice echoes in the empty room, mocking him. “That’s all.” He was being stupid. He knew it. He couldn’t help it.

Frustrated, he opts to take a shower—for as long as possible—surely Axl would be back by the time he was done.

The scorching hot water beat down on his skin for longer than necessary, for long after he was done showering—but he still refused to get out, he hadn’t heard a door opening yet and that could only mean one thing.

The room was still empty when he worked up the nerve to exit the bathroom.

No Axl. No reply to his messages either.

He had spent almost an hour in there.

Everything felt wrong; the room was too large, too empty, and all at once he was a little kid again, far away from everyone he knew and dreadfully lonely. His legs gave out and he fell to the floor with a dull thud. He’d be back. He has to be. He wouldn’t _just leave_ like that, but... would he?

 _Oh honey, he’s gone. Long gone. Like everyone else_ , _just like mom, just like dad_ , _just like Ash. They never do stay, I wonder wh—_

Slash blocked the little voice out, blocked everything out and just stared at the pale walls. Fuck, some heroin would be real good right now. He rubbed absently at his arm. _Why’d he quit again?_

He’d be back.

He had to be.

Axl didn’t show up till for another two hours. Slash hadn’t moved an inch till he heard the sound of Axl swiping his key card. The redhead came in with a towel around his neck, dripping a bit on the carpet, swim trunks riding low on his hips and his usual smirk. It was gone as soon as he laid eyes on Slash, who was slumped against the bed, hands clasped tightly in his lap. His lower lip was swollen and red where he had been chewing it, and his were too bright, too wet.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Axl was across the room and on his knees before Slash in a split second, “Slash what—what’s happening?”

Slash stared at him, puzzled, where had he come from? “Axl?”

“Slash... _Slash_ ,” Axl gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin painfully. Slash welcomed it, welcomed anything that proved that his angel was really here. “It’s me, I’m here.”

“Oh. You were gone.” _And so was I_. “It’s nothing.” He added as almost an afterthought, voice still eerily toneless.

The redhead paused, blue eyes calculating. “I just went for a swim, lost track of time.”

Slash nodded, still a bit dazed. He felt like a fool. He was a fool. “I—I thought you were gone. I tried texting but...”

The brunette watched Axl’s eyes widen with understanding and flushed, looking away. He wanted to hide, hide from those eyes. _He realized I’m flawed_ “It’s nothing—”

“No it’s not.” Axl stated, walking over to the bedside table, opening a drawer and pulling out his phone. His eyes scanned Slash’s messages, heart sinking right down to the floor after each one. Shit. He shouldn’t have left so suddenly without word. He sprawled on the carpet next to Slash, tangling their fingers. Slash’s hand was cool and clammy in his grasp. “I’m back.”

“Yeah, I know. I freaked out—” Slash was aware he was babbling now, but he couldn’t stop. “—I just thought maybe something happened, ya know. But it’s nothing. Just—nothing.”

Axl didn’t rush him, just listened carefully to his words “No it’s not, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Slash tilted his head backwards against the bed; eyes squeezed shut, shame settling hot in his belly. _God, he’d thought he was over clingy shit like this_. “I’m sorry; I don’t know where that came from.” _Yes, yes you do_. “It doesn’t happen a lot; I just—thought...” He wanted to scream for struggling to express himself like this, for only being able to repeat ‘I thought you were gone’.

The redhead didn’t comment, just stroked his thumb against Slash’s hand. The brunette looked down at where their hands are connected for a long while before he speaks. “My mom left when I was a kid—we’re good now, and I guess I get why she did it, she was in a real bad place—but somehow it really affected me. She left me at grandma’s, didn’t say goodbye. I woke up and she was just _gone_.” He takes a deep breath, squeezing Axl’s hand. Even though Ola had tried to make time to call him whenever she could, he still felt flawed, felt she had dumped him there because she was sick of him; she kept Ash around after all. “This was shortly after Dad left us. I was pretty convinced it was _my_ fault somehow and that they had both just gotten tired of _me_ , that they _hated_ me.”

Axl started to speak, but Slash held up a hand silencing him. “Yeah, I know, it’s stupid, but hey, I never claimed to be smart. A few years after that, Grandma died and that was just another thing convincing me that there was something wrong with me. That everyone I cared about left in some way or another eventually.” He grinned sardonically even as he avoided Axl’s eyes.

“Slash...”

“Perla left and made it _pretty clear_ it was all me, my brother Ash just upped and _disappeared_ for a couple of years with no word. _Shit_ , even James pulled a similar stunt once and—”

“And then _I_ was gone.”

“Yeah.” He gulped, “Then you were gone.” He laughed, tapping his foot against the carpet. “My therapist keeps trying to get me to ‘ _separate fears of the past from the reality of the present’_ , or some equally hipster shit. And it worked, I guess. But it’s been a while since I’ve dated someone since Perla... it all kinda crashed down on me at once.”

“I get it, it’s ok, I’m not pulling a stunt like that again.” Axl mumbled, resting his head on Slash’s shoulder. He sure as fuck knew a thing or two about feeling abandoned. “Could’ve left a note or something—I just... went out to clear my head, before Amy.”

“I really... I’m sorry if I seem clingy. It gets better, I promise...” _Once my brain accepts that you’re not gonna just up and disappear... whenever that may be._

Axl shrugged, “You can cling to me all you want.” 

“Oh...Amy, oh yeah, we still have to—” Slash made to rise but Axl tugged him back down.

“Relax, we can just chill for an hour. No rush.” _Yeah, believe me. I’m in no rush at all._ “I’ll just shoot her a quick text telling her we’ll be late.”

The guitarist snickered, throwing an arm over Axl’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Don’t think I don’t realize you’re stalling.”

Axl hummed, burying his face in Slash’s neck “That obvious?”

“When are you not?”

\--------------------------

Duff was positive he was gonna lose his mind. Michelle had suggested the boys to jam together while she watched, just to hear what they’re like together. Steven was clean again—for who knows how long—and eager to please, playing as skillfully as he could, which was pretty fucking well.

Tracii was back and in tip-top shape, completely sober—or so he claimed—but no one could dispute it since he hadn’t missed a note, yet.

But the problem, as always, lied with Izzy—beautiful, mysterious, _cruel_ Izzy—who was seemingly determined to make Duff’s life a living hell.

“So, since the little ginger hurricane is gone, who’s gonna sing?” Tracii asked while tuning his guitar.

Izzy didn’t bother answering, just _glided_ towards the mic in that infuriatingly calm way of his. Tracii quirked a brow at Duff, who just shrugged weakly. That was just Izzy.

Michelle lounged below them in a stunning red dress, hair pinned up in a complicated style. She eyed them; taking drags of her cigar occasionally. “Ready?”

They all stared at Izzy, who again, didn’t bother answering—he hadn’t even looked up from his guitar once. Tracii sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Steven gave the countdown and they launched into a KISS cover smoothly. Their different styles blended pretty well, Steven was perfect—never missing a beat, Duff’s bass was practically purring beneath his skilled fingers, Michelle was tapping her toes, and nodding along—but when Izzy begun to sing everything just _clicked._

He was no Axl; he didn’t wail or screech, toppling impossibly high notes. Instead he crooned, in that effortless way of his, voice mellow and calming— it succeeded in having the _opposite_ effect on the bassist.

 _Why the fuck did they have to share a mic anyway?_ Tracii turned to stare directly at Duff, jerking his head in Izzy’s direction. The message was clear, _move closer._ And ok, maybe Duff was admittedly too far behind to effectively share a mic with Izzy, so he grudgingly moved closer, feeling the hair on his arms stand when those grey eyes slid over him.

 But if that wasn’t enough to completely destroy the bassist, the lyrics were a finisher—who the fuck decided to do _this_ song _? Probably Izzy, just for laughs._

_I’ve been up and down, I’ve been all around_

_I was mystified, almost terrified_

_But late at night I still hear you call my name._

 

Izzy leaned closer, curls brushing Duff’s cheek—the blonde almost recoiled but managed to stop himself when he realized that would raise some unwanted questions.

_I’ve been on my own, I’ve been all alone._

_I was hypnotized, I felt paralyzed._

_But late at night I still want you just the same._

 

Duff gulped, eyes sliding to where Izzy’s shirt draped off a slender shoulder. Well at least I don’t have to look at his ~~perfect~~ stupid face. The brunette chooses that time to turn his entire body towards Duff so they were standing almost face to face.

The bassist ground his teeth together, never hating Izzy more than in that instant.

Never wanting him more either.

 

_I’ve been a gambler, but I’m nobody’s fool_

 

Oh but you _are_ his fool, Duff’s brain reminded him gleefully.

_(And I sure know something, sure know something)_

_You showed me things they never taught me in school_

_(And I sure know something, sure know something)_

_No one can make me feel the way that you do_

_(And I sure know something aha)_

 

Lightning quick, Izzy licked his lips and winked. quirking a brow before launching into the second verse. Michelle was swaying now, hands raised above her head, curls coming loose from where she had been tossing her head gaily. Damn, her boys were gifted.

_I was seventeen, you were just a dream._

_I was mesmerized, I felt scared inside_

_You broke my heart and I still can feel the pain._

The bassist slammed his eyes shut, leaning closer to harmonize, submitting himself to the loveliest of tortures, pressing himself as closely as he dared.

He felt more than heard Izzy’s little laugh, and the shame was back full force. _Steven is right there, trying for you and you’re here being what you’ve always been—Izzy’s little fool_.

Chagrined, he pulled away, almost growling in frustration when Izzy compensated by shifting closer. It was then he noticed the sound of the drums had become harsher, more aggressive—real unnecessary for this song—and looked back to see Steven banging away at the drums angrily. If he hit just a _little_ bit harder he’d probably smash the drumsticks into tiny pieces.

Steven hated every fine bone in the rhythm guitarist’s body, and he would gleefully volunteer to break every. Single. One.

_Fuck._

Michelle was still dancing, Steven was still smashing, Tracii was rocking, Izzy was _still_ teasing and Duff was still losing his mind.

They had scarcely played the last note before he was storming out of the room without a backward glance—the bathroom was as safe a place as any. Once there, he splashed cold water on his burning face, frantically trying to steady his shaking hands.  He couldn’t even look at himself, for fear of what he might see in his eyes.

Need? Love? Fear? Shame...

The sound of footsteps bounced off the tiles and the door creaked open. He expected Steven, steeled himself to face the blonde’s rage. But when he looked up, it wasn’t Steven—instead it was beautiful, mysterious, cruel Izzy. Duff almost sobbed.

The brunette eyed him for a while, taking in his ragged appearance before deeming it necessary to speak. “What the hell is _wrong_ with you?”

Duff blinked before bursting into hysterical laughter _. What’s wrong with me? Me? You’re wrong with me._ Izzy’s irritated expression just made him laugh harder, pressing a hand to his abdomen as if trying to hold himself together—terrified he would fall apart.

The brunette was on him before his laughter had stopped, forcing him up against the tiled wall and capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. Duff wanted to say he didn’t respond, didn’t encourage it—but there was only so much you could do when you had the man you loved pressed against you, stealing the very air from your lungs. He got a hand on Izzy’s chest, but it just rested there instead of pushing him away—fuck _he should_ be pushing away. But he was way too off balanced, and Izzy’s tongue way too skilled—and _he didn’t_ _want_ _to_.

Steven stalked in when Duff’s moans started up and promptly halted in the middle of the room. “What the fuck is this?” He didn’t shout, didn’t yell, it’s almost as if he’d expected it.

Izzy reluctantly pulled away and rolled his eyes—looking mostly unruffled— and tried to brush past the drummer but Steven wasn’t having it. He gripped his shoulder and shoves him back a few steps, blue eyes sparking dangerously. “You stay there are or I _will_ beat you senseless.” Izzy stayed put. “What the fuck do you want with him?”

“What do _I_ want with _him_?” The brunette leaned casually against the tiled wall, shoulder brushing Duff who was still struggling to catch his breath. “Nothing.” And that was the truth as far as Izzy was concerned.

Duff knew, felt his heart drop down to his stomach, felt hollowed and empty because he knew it was true. Izzy didn’t want him, he was just having his own brand of fun—but it sure hurt to hear him say it out loud.

Steven took one look at Duff’s face, set his jaw and advanced on Izzy with lethal intent. Before the guitarist could back away, Steven hauled him by the collar and socked him one, blood dribbled from the split in Izzy’s lip, contrasting sharply with his skin. Steven paused, sporting a little grin—a savage little thing—and when he hit again, he didn’t stop.

“Christ Steven, _no_ —” Duff cried weakly, trying to yank Izzy away from Steven, but the brunette wasn’t cooperating, he wasn’t fighting back either. The bassist flinched at the sick crunching sound Izzy’s nose made when Steven finally landed a punch there. “Steven!” His throat felt raw, his heart sore.

Steven clearly wasn’t listening, because all that rage he was trying to keep a lid on came pouring out. “How _dare_ you fucking say that to him?” He shoved Duff out of the way and launched himself at Izzy, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into wall, reveling in the sound of his head connecting with the tiles.

Duff was still frantically trying to pull him off as he landed punch after punch—the fucker might be small, but he was strong and real hard to get a grip on. He gave up when Steven elbowed him in the nose, forcing him to stagger back, and continued pummeling Izzy with relish.

 Izzy wasn’t fighting back, in fact, he was just bleeding all over the place.

Steven probably wouldn’t stop until he was dead.

 _Fuck_.

With a hand still clutching his throbbing nose, Duff started yelling for help.

\-----------------------

“How much?”

“Hm?” Slash’s eyes were fixed on the road; he sincerely hoped Axl was discouraged from his line of questioning.

“How much for all this? Hotel, car, flight...?”  The redhead’s gaze wasn’t wavering, he waited. Slash opted to turn up the radio. Axl laughed, and turned it back down. “That wasn’t fucking rhetoric, ya know?”

“You _really_ want an answer? Slash asked, smiling a bit when Axl snorted.

“Yes.”

“Huh, Well, to be honest...” he made a left when Axl instructed it and turned unto a normal enough street. Except for the abundance of trees, when was the last time he’d been to the country? Axl cleared his throat to get Slash’s attention, urging him to finish his sentence “Yeah, we’d make beautiful babies.”

The redhead squawked, dissolving into a giggling fit. “Well, I gotta say, that’s one creative way to change the subject man. Stop here.” He figured he wouldn’t be able to wheedle the information out of Slash, not now anyway.

It was the same way he remembered, and that unsettled him to no end. It’s like nothing actually changed; the oppressive heat, the whispering trees, the too silent streets—it’s like he never left.

“You ok man?” Slash muttered, tapping a finger against the staring wheel. Axl nodded, smiling a bit as he felt a sense of calm come over him. This was different, Slash was here, and this was proof that things had indeed changed.

The engine was scarcely shut off before there was a shrill screech. Axl turned to see Amy barreling down their small driveway, brown hair flying every which way. He was out the car before he knew it, whooping all the way. He gathered her in a bone-crushing hug and twirled her around, laughed as her faded blue dress flapped in the wind.

“You still have that thing, little sailor?” He asked breathlessly when her bare feet finally touched ground.

Amy wrinkled her nose though she was still smiling. “It’s my favorite dress, Ax.”  
She stared at him, _he’s not skinny anymore, doesn’t look underweight, or stressed_. Actually, he looked pretty damn good. She felt herself tearing up and looked away.

 “Oh, hello.” Amy tipped, peering over Axl’s shoulder at Slash who was just leaning against the car quietly.

“Hey,” he grinned at her, pushing off the car and walking to meet her. “You must be Amy, I’m Axl’s...” he glanced at Axl for help, briefly considering ending that sentence with ‘John’ just for shits and giggles.

“—friend,” Axl blurted, turning the prettiest shade of scarlet.

Amy laughed, head tossed back, “ok, sure. Nice to meet you _, friend_.” She shook his hand and winked.

“Can we just go?” the redhead grumbled.

“Oh, yeah. I gotta go back for my shoes,” She replied, grinning sheepishly before turning on her heel and skipping off. It was an odd sight— she didn't really _look_ like a child, her dark eyes spoke of knowledge well beyond her years, but her actions were playful and coltish.

“How old is she?”

“Seventeen.” Axl murmured, sounding infinitely sad. Amy was back in a hurry carrying something that definitely wasn’t her shoes.

“What’s that?” The redhead asked, even though he already knew the answer. “Is that the new style of shoes?”

“Haha smartass,” she intoned, rolling her eyes. “It’s a fucking baby.” She tapped the baby’s shoulder, causing it to raise its head and turn those big blue eyes on Axl. “Look Tammy, an asshole.”

Tammy responded in a series of babbles and coos, excited by the sightings of new people.

Axl blinked perplexed, resisting the urge to coo right back and pinch those rosy cheeks “Amy...”

She rolled her eyes and brushed past him, thanking Slash when he held the door open. “Relax, it’s not mine. Stu’s kid.”

The redhead sighed in relief, and then tensed again. “Wait, what do you mean _Stu’s kid?”_

“Please just get in; I’ll explain on the way.”

And that’s how Axl ended up in the back seat next to a chatty, nosy baby with Slash up front trying valiantly not to laugh.

Tammy crawled over into his lap, got right up in his face and screamed “Daaaaaaaa!” grabbing tiny fistfuls of his hair and giggling gleefully. Axl gave in; he brushed his hand over her curly black hair and grinned when she kissed his nose. _Shit, how was the kid so cute?_

“Yes, I know my hair is nicer than Amy’s.” he stated sagely, laughing when Tammy continued babbling while Amy tried to smack him without hurting the baby.

 And so the conversation went on, Amy on one side filling him in on how Stu got the Mason girl pregnant and had to move out because Stephen wouldn’t let him stay—and Tammy telling her own version of the story which included a lot more drool and giggles.

“Where is the bastard anyway?” Axl inquired, trying to wrestle his hair out of Tammy’s reach. It wasn’t working; she just seemed to latch on to a new lock of hair. He couldn’t find it in himself to be mad.

“Preparing for the evening service with a _healthy_ dose of Jack down at Stan’s.” They shared a look and laughed, Axl’s a bit more relieved. Good, he wouldn’t have to face the old bastard today.

“He hasn’t... he hasn’t done anything _after_ has he?” he whispered, smile slipping from his face. He’d left the man a peculiar little gift last time he was here.

Amy quieted, dropping her eyes quickly “N- No. He... he avoids me like a plague.”

 _Liar_ —Axl felt sick to his stomach. The fucker hadn’t stopped at all, or he had found some other way to torment Ames. He forced a smile and prayed it looked genuine “That’s good.” _He was gonna fucking kill him_.

\-------------

Slash hated hospitals; always had since he had to sit watching his grandmother waste away in a hospital bed—he dreaded them. He didn’t say anything when they entered the St.Vincent Hospital, but the look of utter distaste on his face was sending a strong message.

“Hey, wanna stay out here with the baby?” Axl suggested, almost laughing when Slash took Tammy off Amy’s shoulder in a split second. “Wow, ok. See you in a few.”

The guitarist flashed Axl a grateful smile and headed out towards the parking lot, replying dutifully to Tammy’s interview. She liked his hair almost as much as Axl’s, she kept staring at it in wonder, tiny mouth forming a perfect ‘o’.

Amy smiled at Axl, wiggling her eyebrows. “Looks like Tammy likes your little _friend_.”

Axl couldn’t find the energy to sass her, he instead allowed her to lead him down the halls, get him a visitor’s pass, guide him into the elevator and out. “She’s in here.” Amy murmured, pointing him towards the room and taking a few steps back.

“Not coming?”

“You know how she feels about me.” She leaned against the wall, smiling sadly. Shortly after Axl had run off, Sharon begun distancing herself from Amy, making snide little comments under her breath about her being a ‘husband stealer’ and the ‘Whore of Babylon.’ Good old Steve-o had convinced Sharon that her daughter had been trying to lead him astray for years. Planted pretty little lies in her foolish head—Sharon clung to them—grateful for any flimsy excuse the reverend had to offer for his actions that saved her the guilt—and Amy was almost certain that if she her mother hadn’t fallen ill, she would’ve been out on the streets in a jiffy. _Thank God for small mercies, eh?_ “She doesn’t even talk to me anymore; besides, this is your visit—go ahead.”

Axl scowled, they’d be having a talk about _that_ sooner or later. Steeling himself, he opened the door, slipped in and closed it silently. He gripped the knob for the longest while, considering just calling it quits and walking straight out of the hospital and into Slash’s arms.

A weak voice spoke up, chilling Axl to the very core “Oh, you came?”

He didn’t want to turn around.

“Can’t even look at me? After all these years?” it laughed—a brittle, ugly thing.

Slash was just outside; he could just hop in the car and _never look back._

“Oh, Billy. My boy...”

“My name isn’t fucking Billy.” He snapped, whirling around to glare at her, freezing when he realized he had played right into her hands. He hated what he saw even more than he hated that voice.

She looked small, Sharon had always been a small woman, but she seemed barely there. The bed looked ready to engulf her at any moment; she could sink into the fluffy pillows and crisp sheets and never return.

And then there was the smell, Axl felt bile rising in his throat as his nostrils were assaulted by the unmistakable smell of death. Despair, even. Her eyes were sunken and sullen, her mane of auburn hair—the one thing he had admired—was gone. But worst of all was her hands.

The hands that used to nimbly knit and sew.

The hands that prepared food.

The hands he watched care so tenderly for Amy and Stu.

The hands that occasionally ruffled his hair (the same hands that, after a while, would falter and fall away from him—then stop reaching for him completely).

Those hands looked pale, sickly and useless just lying limply on her lap. Sharon’s skin was thin; Axl’s eyes could trace almost every vein in her bony hands, trace them like the various wires that hooked her up to all sort of sinister looking machines. The scene seemed unreal, like something out of a scary movie.

Unnatural.  Freakish. Strange.

“How are you still alive?” he blurted, voice sounding foreign to him.

The thing—Sharon—his mother smiled, (it looked a whole lot more like a grimace). “I wanted to see you...just one last time. Looks like the Lord has willed it, the doctors say I should’ve been dead already.” She uttered that awful little laugh again and Axl’s skin _crawled._ He kept his eyes fixed on the bible next to her hands.

Well, at least she was devoted.

“You don’t wanna sit, Axl?” she asked, shifting a little in her bed. She was careful not to call him Billy, knew how much he hated that. Sharon prayed the Bill she once knew was still in there, everything depended on that.

Did she just call him Axl? His mouth hung open a bit “Uh...No.”

“How’s that Isbell boy? He still hell on wheels?” She kept her eyes fixed on a spot above his shoulder; it felt like she was talking to someone besides him.

Creepy.

He shifted from foot to foot “Izzy is fine, look Ma, why’d you call me here?”

“A mother can’t ask to see her son?”

Axl barked a harsh laugh, “Some mother you were. You didn’t care at all! You never cared when I walked out so you sure as fuck shouldn’t care now.”

She sighed, fiddling with the sheets absently. “I—I tried my best. Stephen tried too, even though—”

Axl stalked closer to her, watching her eyes nervously track his movements. “Tried? Tried to what? Tried to abuse us every other day instead of hourly?”

“H-he didn’t! He said—” her nostrils flared, breath coming in sharp bursts. “He only disciplined you when necessary. God said whoever spares the rod hates their children—” _but one who loves their children is careful to discipline them._ Yeah, Proverbs 13:24, Axl knew that one by heart.

“What about when he was raping Amy?” he hissed, smiling when she flinched. _Guilty, that bitch was guilty and she knew it._ It was suddenly dawning on him what this visit was _really_ about.

“S-She caused him to; she seduced a man of G—”

He knew then that he hated her, he hated her so intensely that it _terrified_ him.

“—how? She was ten for fuck’s sake!” Axl clutched the railing, restraining himself. He wanted to throttle her, but he’s pretty sure Matricide would land him in the one place he left town trying to avoid.

She brought her frail hands up to her ears, tossing her head from side to side. This wasn’t going the way she planned, this monster had long since consumed Billy. She didn’t want to hear anymore—she just wanted to die.

He paused, allowing her to calm down before whispering, “what about you, huh? What about when he was beating you shitless?”

“A wife s-should obey, that’s what God says— it’s just my place.” She replied as if reciting a well worn line. She wouldn’t look him in the face; instead she stewed in her guilt, eyes fixed on the blank walls.

 _She believes this shit... She actually believes wholeheartedly_. No, not fully, but she _~~wants~~_ needs to.  He had never pitied her more. Pretty, gullible, spineless little Sharon who ached to serve.

Axl stared at her in awe and wondered fleetingly if she had always been this way. And if not—which was most likely the answer—what kind of spell did Stephen cast to get her like this?

“One last thing,” he watched her shiver, thin lips moving as if reciting a prayer. “Why’d you start hating me?”

Sharon finally looked up, gaze unwavering “the older you got the more you became like him.” She said simply, truthfully. “It was too much; I couldn’t bear to touch you. Same eyes, same smile, same name—I... I’m sorry.”

That’s the closest thing to an apology that he’s ever gotten. The redhead felt himself tearing up and blinked rapidly, “that’s it? You’re sorry. Is this why you dragged me here?” _That’s all? After years of suffering through their bullshit._

She dropped her eyes, ashamed and confused. _Why doesn’t he forgive me? Why doesn’t he forgive me so I can rest in peace?_ Oh, yes. The thing that would _surely_ earn his forgiveness—she stretched for the bible laying in her lap and thumbed through it, hand’s shaking from the strain. Pausing, she pulled out an sheet of paper, yellowed and crumpled. “This... this is for you.” He stared at her outstretched hand, watching it waver in the space between them, wondering if he should just walk away.

He sighed and accepted the letter, feeling his heart stop when he realized what it was.

She smiled, eyes wide, she’d caught him. This would win his forgiveness for sure; licking her lips eagerly she spoke. “He left it for you, before he ran off...”

“You said he was dead...” He voice cracked, then gave way altogether. 

“Well he’s not. And that letter tells you all you need to know, his address, contact number—everything.” She cried, waiting for him to fall to his knees and burst into tears. Billy was such a fragile little thing, used to cling to her apron like a lifeline. “He’s _alive_ , will you—I’m sorry, please forgive me? Grant a mother’s dying wish.” Her eyes watched the rising and falling and her son’s chest; he was breaking now, she could almost _taste_ the redemption.

_Quickly, I’m a dead woman already._

Her redemption, however, became a distant possibility when Billy began laughing. “You think I want _this_? What I wanted was for you to stand up for us once in a while! To admit you and that pig were wrong! Oh, but I know what you _want_ , Sharon. _Forgiveness_ , but it’s too fucking late now.” He started ripping the envelope to shreds with relish, laughing harder when Sharon let out a chilling wail. Sobs racked her frail body and her heart monitor started beeping excitedly.

“Oh, you monster! YOU _MONSTER_!” She wailed, wringing her hands. “How can you deny ME _this_?” Axl didn’t bat an eye; he tossed the fragments of paper into the air, watching them fall. _It’s like Christmas_ —he chuckled to himself. A young nurse dashed in, took one look at Sharon and paled visibly.

“We’re gonna need a doctor in here!” She called out the door, almost bumping into Axl who was watching the whole ordeal with detached amusement. “I’m sorry sir, you’ll have to leave.” A man in a lab coat brushed past him, barking orders.

“So will she.” He muttered, almost to himself. He felt numb watching her suffer, writhing in pain like he remembered doing on the grimy carpet that torrid summer evening.

“P-Pardon?”

“It’s nothing,” his sharp smile caused the nurse to recoil, “nothing at all.”

Sharon watched through a pain-induced haze as Axl— _William?? Is that you?—_ walked away. The world faded, and all she could think was: _Rose men, always walking away from me. Always denying me what I want most._

Behind her fluttering lids, she saw beautiful pearly gates closing on her with an awful resounding clang.

_Should’ve known... I should’ve known._

\------------------------

Slash was worried, Axl was taking way too long in the shower. He hadn’t returned in a bad mood per say, in fact, he was cheerful. The redhead sidestepped almost every question about what happened, and busied himself entertaining Tammy who seemed perplexed by his new found enthusiasm, but not put off.

“Why are you hanging off the bed?”Axl asked, strolling into the room with only a towel on.

Slash watched him upside-down, hair hanging off the bed. “So I can check out your ass from a different angle. Still nice.”

Axl laughed, walking around the bed, grabbing his leg and pulling him across the duvet. Satisfied, he crawls unto the bed until he was blinking down at Slash. “You’re an infant.” He stated, chuckling when the guitarist makes grabby hand’s and pouts.

“Yes, but I’m _your_ infant.” And with that he was pulling Axl’s damp body on top of his. He kissed Axl gently, trying to comfort him after a long trying day. The redhead smiled into the kiss, nipping gently at Slash’s bottom lip.

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” The brunette growled, licking into Axl’s mouth determinedly, he seemed pretty set on kissing the redhead till he forgot his name and half his vocabulary. Soon enough, Axl was making the softest little sounds, which Slash eagerly swallowed.

 _Christ, how had he gotten so lucky?_ He trailed his hands to Axl’s hips, grinning when the redhead grinds on his leg, muffling a little moan. He’s gently pulling on the towel when Axl stops him, fingers closed tightly around his wrist.

“A- Are you sure you want to, ya know... even though...” He stuttered, cursing himself for coloring so quickly.

“Even though?” Slash had no idea what Axl was stuttering about, but if he wanted to stop—the guitarist wasn’t about to complain.

“Even though I was a—not exactly the purest of persons?” Biting his lip, he bowed his head, resisting the urge to run and hide. He didn’t like the word whore; it had been thrown at him too many times to count.

It was then Slash realized that Axl was _still_ convinced he didn’t want him, that somehow his past had deterred the guitarist. “Come on, look at me.” He tipped Axl’s head up, smiling when the redhead started blushing harder. “I want you. I’ll always want you regardless. Your past doesn’t matter to me—well unless you’re a serial killer, you _would_ tell me if you were, right?”

Axl started laughing so hard he had to roll off Slash, “Shit, I thought _you_ were the serial killer.”

He waved a dismissive hand “Semantics. Now _please_ get over here.” Axl came this time, hesitating only for a split second before he was grabbing Slash by the collar and pulling him into a kiss. Slash takes control of the kiss and Axl just gives in, just going with the flow. Then there’s a large hand slipping underneath his towel and squeezing his thigh. So close to where he _actually_ wants it. Slash breaks away to nip and suck at Axl’s throat, smiling when he lets out a high pitched whine.

“If you plan to— _aahh_ —tease me tonight, I might have to kill you.” Slash doesn’t reply, instead he cups Axl’s erection with a hot hand and _squeezes_. The vocalist’s hips jerked and he’s almost positive he made some needy sound.

“Oh wow,” Slash laughed, tightening his grip once again to cut of Axl’s snarky reply. “A hand on your dick and you’re totally speechless.”

 _Ok, no. He was not about to get away with that._ Axl knocked his hand away, smirking wickedly.  

“C’mere.” He tugged Slash into sitting position and urged him backwards till he was leaning against the headboard. “Stay there.”

The guitarist fidgets a bit, chuckling when Axl growled. “What? You never said ‘Simon says’.”

Axl glared some more, so Slash pouts a bit but complies—it was probably best not to piss of someone about to touch your dick.

He was still feeling a bit smug, that was until Axl mouthed along the line of his erection through his boxers. Slash’s sharp inhale was strangely loud in the quiet room. Humming, he sucks at the head, soaking the fabric and chuckling when Slash chokes on a moan.

Finally, Axl motions for the brunette to pull his boxers down, and he wriggles out of them quickly. He almost jumped a foot in the air when the redhead exclaims “Oh my God.”

“What?”

The redhead sputters for a while, before blurting “You have a big dick.”

Slash’s face heated up in record time, “I—uh, I’m sor—?” His apology cut off abruptly when Axl closes an eager hand around his cock, stroking it almost lovingly.  Then his pink tongue was flicking hot and wet over the sensitive head, delving into the slit—dragging a surprised little sound from Slash that he quickly tried to muffle with the back of his hand.

Axl looked up at him, blue-green eyes shining beneath his lashes, before slowly taking the head into his mouth and working it over slowly. The guitarist barely had time to adjust to that wet heat around him before Axl was sinking syrup slow down his length.

Slash made an embarrassing spluttering sound, head thunking against the headboard. “Oh god, h-how did you do—”

Axl’s eyes were still absorbing every emotion flicking across Slash’s face; he hummed a little, watching Slash bite viciously into his lower lip—eyelids fluttering. _Holding back? We can’t have that._ He begun to move, throwing himself into his task, making it as sloppy and wet as possible. Slash moaned ragged and low in his throat, clinging to Axl’s biceps when the redhead slipped a finger beneath his balls and begun to _stroke_.

 _Shit that felt good_ , it sent tingles up his spine and had him raising his hips for more. The redhead swirled his tongue under the head of Slash’s cock, moaning at the taste of precum on his tongue. The guitarists face was flushed, that finger was still stroking, and Slash _might_ (totally) be hoping he goes a little lower, but is way too shy to ask.

“Please...”

Axl gripped Slash’s hip, motioning for him to fuck his mouth, enjoying the smothered sounds the guitarist kept making, looking shocked when each one passed his lips. Suddenly, Slash stilled, buried his fingers in Axl’s locks and tried frantically to pull him away.

Axl obeyed, pulling off—but kept a hand pumping the slick length, Slash grabbed him, brown eyes hazy.

“Please...” he croaked, barely getting enough air into his lungs

Axl rolled his eyes, frustrated. “I’m trying to, if you’d just _let_ me—”

Slash stilled his hand again, frustrated. “No, please fuck me.” The words had scarcely left his mouth before he was flushing and squeezing his eyes shut.

The room was quiet; he nervously peered down at Axl’s face to see what the fuck was up.

Axl’s looked gobsmacked, “Are you sure? Have you ever...shit man—”

“Please don’t mention shit while I’m proposing butt sex.” And just like that, the atmosphere lightened and they both were cackling like madmen.

“Roll over, Gimmie a sec.” Axl mumbled, leaning up for a kiss, Slash shuddered at the taste of himself.

The brunette rolled over, anticipation thrumming in his veins. This was happening. He felt the mattress sink as Axl returned, and nearly jumped out of his skin when cold hands were gripping his hips, urging them to rise.

“Relax, I’ll make it good.” Slash believed him wholeheartedly, but he couldn’t help squirming a bit. The first press of Axl’s tongue against his hole had him wriggling away with a little gasp. Chuckling, Axl held him in place, admiring the beautiful curve of his spine, the shocked sounds he was muffling into the pillow, the way he tries to subtly rub against the sheets.

Axl finally stopped fucking around and forced his tongue past the relaxed muscle. Slash _might_ have moaned something like _“Oh, Axl”,_ but he’d deny it to his dying day. It was weird, but good weird, he found himself chasing that tongue every time it pulled out, and whining in frustration because it was good—but he didn’t want to come like this.

“Ax, if you don’t stop in the next thirty seconds, this may be embarrassingly quick.” The redhead placed a kiss on the tiny pucker and pulled away reluctantly.

“You never let me have any fun,” he pouted, opening the bottle of lube, all the while admiring Slash’s ass. It _was_ a nice ass.

Slash smiled into the pillow at the petulance in Axl’s voice. “Next time...”

The redhead complied, slipping a slick finger into his loosened channel, almost laughing when Slash buried his face in the pillow and whimpered. He stretched him slowly and gently, trying desperately to memorize every sound, every movement; was so careful that the guitarist got irritated and demanded that Axl get inside him now   _“I’m not gonna fucking break.”_

Slash took him beautifully—like he was made for it, hoarsely screaming Axl’s name when he finally sinks into him. The redhead stills, almost laughing, but not quite because _fuck_ , he could come from Slash’s noises alone.

“Slash, we’re in a hotel. Can’t exactly go screaming this loudly.” Axl chided, trying to count backwards from twenty and distract himself from that welcoming heat. _Come on, It’s his first time—make it good._

“I don’t give a single fuck.” He groused, working his hips backward, completely unaware of the redhead’s struggle. “Stop worrying about them, worry about me.”

Axl grunted, chewing on his tongue. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

Slash flushed, shivering at the deep rumble of Axl’s voice “That’s good?”

“Well... that depends; how mad would you be if I came in a minute?”

Slash can’t remember a time when he had laughed this much during sex. Axl moved slowly at first, asking questions like ‘is this ok?’, ‘does it hurt’ ever so often and Slash would’ve been annoyed if he wasn’t so busy moaning. He takes Slash apart with the sinuous roll of his hips, brushing his prostate with almost every thrust—when Slash begins babbling nonsense, he has to clamp a hand over that lovely (filthy) mouth.

“I love your sounds babe, but I’m sure we’re gonna get called out for this.” He whispered, slowing his thrusts just because he could. “You’ll be quiet?” The redhead sinks his hand into Slash’s curls, secretly hoping he _wouldn’t_ be quiet at all, because everyone should hear the sounds he’s making because of Axl. On the other hand, no one should, because Slash was _his_ and only his.

Slash nodded, knowing he’d forget all about that in a minute or two, melting into the bed when Axl starts fucking him—hard.  A few moments later he was worming a hand underneath him, almost sobbing in relief when his hand closes around the engorged length.

“Axl, Axl I’m gonna—I can’t hold—” He was really trying, but he couldn’t string a complete sentence together.

 Not when was teetering on the edge of what could be a life changing orgasm.

Not when they were connected in the most intimate way.

Not when Axl had reached up to tangle their fingers and was placing adoring kisses on his shoulder.

The redhead squeezed Slash’s free hand, “Yeah- I, together?”

Their combined moans might have woken up the whole hotel, neither of them cared. Slash’s mind whited out and he had no memory of what the fuck he said after, but whatever he said must have been important, because Axl’s whispered ‘ _oh fuck’_ and came with his nails digging into Slash’s hips.

“Fuck...” Slash groaned when Axl lowers himself unto him, still holding his hand. “ _Fuck_.”

The redhead laughed weakly, “Yeah?” He buried his nose in Slash’s curls that were all tangled and sweaty. Ok, that would be a bitch to comb out—but he’d help.

“Fuck...”The brunette intoned, blinking the sweat from his eyes. He’d think of other things to say sooner or later. Most likely later at this rate. He had no idea how Axl was still conscious enough to tease, he could barely coax his limbs to move.

Axl was becoming seriously concerned about Slash’s vocabulary. “Did I break you?” he teased, pulling out as gently as he could.

Slash just inhaled through his teeth and hissed “fuck” softly—barely registering Axl’s shrieks of laughter.

It was after their shower that Slash had remembered something important. He lowered the covers and poked Axl’s shoulder till he grunted in acknowledgement.

“What’d I say?”

“Hm?” The redhead rolled over to stare at Slash in confusion.

“What’d I say? When I was cumming,” he soldiered on, even as his face flamed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear, because I know you did.

“Hmmm...” Axl hummed, smirking wickedly. “Worried? Don’t bother, it wasn’t anything embarrassing.”

“Good, you can tell me then.” He countered, heart thumping as Axl’s smirk fell away. Dear God, it wasn’t something stupid like someone else’s name, was it? Not that he was thinking of anyone else in that moment but—

“Quit over thinking,” Axl snapped, throwing an arm over Slash’s stomach and hiding behind his freshly washed curls—a thing he’d grown accustomed to doing lately. He waited an age before actually answering, “You said... you said you loved me.”

Slash throat went dry. He hadn’t meant to just blurt that out, maybe he’d ruined everything like a fool. “Oh...” he managed to croak, too scared to ask anything else.

“Did you mean it?” Axl mumbled, barely audible. “People say everything and anything during sex and I—do you?” He sounded so unsure, Slash’s heart ached.

“Of course I did, I do—love you, that is.” He stuttered, bursting into giggles at the thought of James’ horrified face at his botched confession.

Axl giggled quietly, heart soaring. “God, you’re such an egg.” He swallowed hard, trying to come up with the words to assure Slash his feelings were reciprocated. He was never good at this part, not since Izzy—and even then...

The guitarist was drifting off into dream world when Axl finally worked up the courage to whisper “I love you too”. He chuckled sleepily, smiling when Axl jumps at the sound of his voice.

“Aha!”

“Please, go to fucking bed.” Axl hissed, barely containing his laughter.

“But you love me.”

He raised a brow “So?”

“So... you _love_ me huh?” he mused, gasping “That means you totally _like_ like me.”

The redhead sighed, turning his back. “I can’t believe I’m in love with an infant.”

“He said it again!” Slash whispered gleefully. He felt more than heard Axl’s laughter, and smiled to himself.

He kissed Axl’s pale shoulder “Night.”

“Goodnight, infant.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have sinned, and i'm unapologetic. :)  
> Comments are cocaine, so gimmie my fix.


	14. Chapter 14

“—and now you can’t play, again!” Michelle glared down at the three men slouched on her couch. _These fucking idiots_. “Now, I wanna know _why_ my drummer tried to _strangle_ my fucking vocalist, _why_ my bassist has a swollen nose and _why_ there was a mini Battle Royale in my bathroom yesterday!”

None of them volunteered to answer. Typical.

She nodded, briefly considering putting them all over knee. “NO? No one wants to answer? Now why, oh _why_ does Tracii have a dislocated arm?”

The silence stretched on. Just as she’d expected.

“He was trying to pull them apart.” Duff finally murmured, dutifully avoiding her gaze. “He kinda got caught in the cross—”

“WHY THE FUCK WERE THEY FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE?” She barked, glowering at the trio.

 Steven hadn’t even flinched, Izzy had a faraway look in his eyes and Duff looked on the verge of crying.

 _Well this is a magnificent fuck up_. Michelle sighed, “Boys... will you just figure this out please? Please.” She kneels before Duff, squeezing his hands. “You ok Blondie?”

Duff made a small sound in his throat, not even attempting to form words at the moment.

Michelle hesitated before leaving the room, tossing “Figure yourselves out, damnit!” over her shoulder.

Easier said than done.

 Steven came to work this morning with bandaged hands and refused to talk to Duff, avoiding him completely.

Tracii hadn’t even bothered to show up for this little intervention and Duff suspected he was pretty pissed at Steven for almost snapping his fucking arm.

 Izzy looked like shit with a shiny black eye and bruises peppering his skin. He kept touching his fingers to his split lip, smiling a bit sadistically through the pain.

Duff couldn’t stop himself asking “How’s your nose?” Steven jumped up from beside him, snorted and walked out of the room, slamming the door viciously behind him.

_Just couldn’t help yourself could you? Always overly caring._

Izzy glanced at him thoughtfully, “It’s sore, but no biggie—the doctor just needed to straighten it, I’ll be fine. Was just a simple fracture.”

The blond smiled despite himself, _of course he’d be alright, but I’m not sure I’ll be._ “That’s good.”

“Steven doesn’t seem to think so.” He said, pressing his fingers to his lips and sighing at the flare of pain.

Duff snatched his hand away, “Stop that!” Izzy peered at him, eyes impassive. “I—what’s _wrong_ with you? Why did you do this?” Suddenly, hot tears were spilling from his eyes and his was sobbing uncontrollably. “ _Why_ the fuck would you have done this, you piece of shit! Steven hates me now, can’t stand talking to me.”

There was a scuffle, Duff was pushing away but Izzy was pulling him closer. It ended with the blonde’s head on Izzy chest, tears soaking into his shirt while the brunette chanted ‘ _Never wanted to hurt you, God Mike, never you_.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” Duff cried hoarsely, still halfheartedly trying to get away. “You...why’d you do that? Outta nowhere, kissing me like that. You fucking knew I couldn’t... wouldn’t have resisted. ”

“Because I deserved it.” He snapped; words at odds with his soothing tone. “You, you never deserved any of this. I never expected Steven to be so...” _Fucking angry_.

 _I can’t believe it_. Duff sniffled, furrowing his brows as the pieces fell together. “Did you... wait a sec; did you pick a fight with Steven as some sort of fucking punishment?” He pulled away from Izzy, almost laughing when the brunette nearly growls. “Oh my God, you did. You didn’t even fight back because this was _supposed_ to be some sort of punishment for something.”

Izzy crossed his arms, raising a brow at Duff.  The bassist chuckled; Izzy always hated being figured out, loved keeping a sense of mystery about him. “Are you pleased with yourself?”

“Yes,” Duff stated. “Yes I am. You fucking almost got yourself _killed_ because you thought you deserved being beaten to death for...”

Izzy swallowed and looked away.

“...for leaving Axl.” _And for hurting me_.

The brunette begun to clap, grey eyes flat and unimpressed. “You should be a detective.”

“It was _always_ about Axl.” Duff mused, ignoring Izzy’s attitude. He couldn’t even be mad, he just felt numb and slightly annoyed. “You used me. You fucking asshole.” The blond was laughing now, a palm pressed over his mouth.

“Do you hate me now?” Izzy intoned, leaning into Duff’s personal space. “Do you?” _Please... please do, because God knows I don’t deserve your love. It hurts you more than it heals._ But Duff was looking at him in that fond way of his, green eyes practically shining.

“We both know the answer to that.” Duff sighed, pushing him away. “Fuck, you _want_ me to hate you, don’t you? You want me to... stop loving you, for my own good?”

Silence.

Duff had figured him out, the way only Axl has managed to. _God, the only two people in the world who could figure him out and he was poison to both of them_.

“ _God_ , that plan has Izzy written all over it.” Duff snorted, and then they were both laughing, clutching helplessly at each other. “You couldn’t just apologize, like a normal person? You had to get your ass kicked in the process?”

“You know me, drama is my middle name.” he joked, nudging Duff’s shoulder with his own. “Anyway, Steven won’t be mad for long, he loves you...”

“Yeah... he did, but now—”

“No, _he loves you_. He fought for you; you just gotta... explain things.”

“Like why your tongue was down my throat?”

Izzy laughed, cutting off abruptly and hissing in pain. “Yeah...sorry about that.”

Duff snorted, flushing and looking away when Izzy winked. “You’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

Duff pulled Izzy into a hug “I love you still, whether you think you deserve it or not. And, I really wish you’d stop hurting yourself over this—no, shut up—you need to talk to Axl, he’s not as mad as you think. He loves you too ya know... he just wants his gypsy back.”

Izzy stopped breathing for a second, trembling in Duff’s grasp “He still calling me that?”

“You expected him to stop?” he asked softly.

 _Yes, I expected his undaunted hatred._ “I guess not.” The brunette mumbled, pushing Duff away. “Get away. Go get your blond terrorist.” Izzy wasn’t the type to cry in front of anyone, he fanned Duff away, waiting till the door slams to curl into a ball and sob silently.

_“Are you mad at me Bill?” Izzy whispered, crouched next to Bill’s bed, half hidden in the darkness. “Do you hate me?”_

_“What? Yes, I’m mad you idiot! You shouldn’t be here!” Axl snapped, pulling him off the floor and under the thin covers. “Jesus Iz, I can’t hate you, are ya dumb?” They huddled together, barely breathing, hearts thumping wildly. “If my dad finds us, I’m dead.” But he didn’t send him away, just held on to Izzy tighter, even at his own risk._

  “Christ Axl...you idiot.” Izzy cried, eyes stinging.  “You fucking _idiot_.”

\---------------------

Axl was in the middle of the best day of his life.

Slash was draped across the bed naked, hair flying wildly in every direction. “I hate you, I fucking hate you. Does this mean I need to shower again?” Axl broke him, he was almost certain he was broken.

“Yeah, there are... uhm... fluids all over us.” Axl commented, lighting a cig. “Together?”

Bad idea.

He just ended up pressed against the slick tiles with Axl taking him apart from behind. Which wasn’t exactly a bad thing, but fuck it (ha-ha butt fuck), they were never gonna get anything done at this rate.

“Thought we were— _fuck_ —showering” he moaned, standing on his toes when the redhead hit his prostate. “Fuck—harder, come on!”

“We are.” Axl panted, redoubling his efforts, they were gonna be sooo late. “Hey, quick question, how fast can you come for me?”

The answer was ‘pretty damn fast’.

“I fucking _hate_ you.” Slash whined, though he allowed Axl to wash his hair after. “You ruined me.” He pointed out as the redhead leads him to the room. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“You like my diiick.” Axl sung, dancing wildly around the room.

 _Well, true_. “Who’s the infant now?”

They got dressed, well; more like Slash dressed them both while Axl tried to distract him by any means possible (and succeeded a few times too). After struggling for what seemed like hours, they were both ready to go.

“Let’s go, Amy will be so annoyed we’re late.” Axl muttered, stealing a quick kiss from Slash.

“If she asks, I’m tattling.” Slash grabbed his keys, laughing when Axl froze in the center of the room.

The redhead narrowed his eyes, “Tell her what? You can’t control yourself?”

“Well, I’ll have you know—” He opened the door and almost bumped into someone. Well, tripped over is a more accurate description.

“ROOM SERVICE!” A cheerful voice rang out, cutting their argument short. “Well not really, but... damn—what did that old lady tell me to say again?” she muttered under her breath, rolling kohl-lined eyes when memory failed her.

They stared, awestruck, down at the little lady in the doorway.  She turned her large brown eyes on the two frozen men, fiddling absently with the hem of her Metallica tee. “Uhm... this is room 201 right?”

“Uh... yes.” Slash replied, blinking at Axl. “This is... here.”

“Oh,” she muttered, pushing a lock of dark hair behind her ears. “Well, I gotta message for ya—”

“Oh yeah, where’s the other lady? The one Slash scared shitless with his rambling.” The redhead cut in, peering over Slash’s shoulder. He liked this one better, she stared back at him—eyes filled with mirth.

The brunette wanted to protest, because it was _not_ his fault; _poodles sometimes looked like polar bears, right?_

“Oh, Nina?” She grinned cheekily, “Yeah, she gave up this whole floor. Something about harboring polar bears and cake?” She glanced around them into the room, barely batting an eye at the ash tray filled with questionable things. “We’re supposed to assign someone new to you, because Nina is _not having it_.”

Axl let out an undignified bark of laughter while Slash did his best to disappear into the floor.

“Oh sweet, can I have one of those.” The tiny lady, as Axl had taken to calling her in his head, pointed at the box of cigars in his hand.

“Sure.” Axl said just as Slash asked “Are you allowed?”

She raised a brow, “Are you allowed to have weed in the hotel?” Both men turned to glance into the room, just now noticing the ash tray was still there.... unemptied. Slash slapped a hand over his face—it was Axl’s fault, he distracted him with sex. He crossed the room in long strides, grabbing the tray and disappearing into the bathroom.

Axl was laughing so hard his sides ached. “Oh my god, your face...” The lady leaned against the doorjamb, “kid I like you. What’s your name?”

“Sarah, and I’m guessing you’re Axl?” The redhead nodded.

“She’s a friend?” Slash muttered, finally able to meet their eyes on his return.

“Oh no honey, the workers on the night shift were babbling about it, you’re _famous_ now.” Sarah waited for that to sink in, turning away with a small smile. “I’m almost certain the whole floor knows Axl’s name as of last night.”

The guitarist spluttered, punching Axl when he bent double and laughed. “Oh... _oh my God_. I’m leaving.” Slash was brushing past Sarah and out the door before Axl could stop him, face flaming the whole way.

“Sure thing. But hey, try keeping the noise down next time?” she chuckled, that’s what they had sent her to tell them anyway. “Your neighbors are jealous.”

The redhead clutched her shoulder, voice sincere “Can we keep you forever?”

“AXL!” Slash bellowed from the hallway.

“Your boyfriend wants you.” She peered over her shoulder, “he looks about ready to run and hide. I don’t work here really, but if you need anything, use my name at the front desk.”

“I will.”

“Later, Axl.” She sing-songed, winking playfully. The redhead chuckled and went to meet Slash who was standing on the other end of the hall—the poor thing looked scandalized.

Sarah hummed cheerfully, walking in the opposite direction; being stuck here all summer seemed more exciting than ever.

\-------------------

If Amy got anymore pissed, she’d probably pop a blood vessel. Tammy was napping peacefully in her crib while Amy waited “patiently” for the boys to show up.

They were two fucking hours late.

Fuming, she jabbed at her dialer, groaning when Axl picked up and raucous laughter flooded her speakers.  _Oh, having fun huh?_

“Hey Ames.” Axl greeted, sounding all too cheerful for someone so tardy.

“Don’t ‘hey Ames’ me. Did you pick up the stuff for dinner?” She snapped, scoffing at the guilty silence.

“Oh dear God,” she stalked into the kitchen and peered into the almost empty fridge. _Of_ _course Stephen drank all the money, there’s barely anything here to live off._ “I can’t actually fix your favorite meal without the ingredients Ax.”

“I know, I know, we’ll stop and pick up some stuff.”

“Why the fuck _are_ you so late anyway? Couldn’t keep your hands off your _friend_? She teased, pausing when met with shocked silence.

_Oh my God._

“Oh my _fucking_ God.” Amy squealed, lowering her voice quickly when she remembered the baby. “Ohooo this is _rich_ —”

Axl was still spluttering, finally forcing out “I don’t know what you—”

She rolled her eyes so far back she swore she glimpsed her brain. _Oh please_ “Don’t try me punk. He’s a friend like Izzy was a friend hmm?” Amy was barely seven when she figured out her brother liked the Isbell boy. Axl had nearly choked when she innocently asked if Axl was gonna marry Jeffrey since he liked him so much and people _always_ married the ones they liked (“ _You like Jeff the most next to me”_ )—but he didn’t _deny_ it exactly, just told her to hush up before someone hears.

“Amy...”

“He _is_ hot, isn’t he?” She mused, ignoring him completely. “You two are quite a pair.”

Her brother was silent for a while. “Don’t... don’t fuckin pull any shit ok?” The incident with Izzy was all too fresh in their minds. She thought it was _cute_ to hand Izzy Axl’s diary when he came to visit one evening.

That whole event was mortifying on Axl’s part.

She grinned, scheming silently.  “Pass him the phone, please.”

“What the—no I’m not passing him the fucking phone—hey! You’re _driving_ keep your fucking eyes o—” She listened, smiling so hard her face hurt, to the tussle for the phone. Another few seconds of silence, and then Slash’s amused voice was ringing in her ear.

“Hey Amy, what’s up?”

“Hey Slash, listen, you haven’t seen any damning pictures of my brother lately, have you?”

“Unfortunately no.” he replied, liking the idea more and more by the second. “Are you equipped to change that?”

“Fuck yeah!” She made her way over to her mom’s old room, already imaging Axl’s flaming face when she brings out the big guns. Axl never did like clothes as a child. “We have a whole collection of baby pictures. Dinner will be a great time then.”

“I look forward to it—”

“I hate you, if you ever bring out those damn pictures—” Axl hissed, apparently he was in possession of the phone again.

“Oh honey, give it another hour—you’ll hate me even more. Remember those pictures of you running around the house with nothing but a smile on?”

“Ugh, Amy I swear—”

“Get the food, see you soon babe.” She hung up before he could threaten further. Amy scoured Sharon’s closet till she came across the old Album. The first picture that greeted her was one of young Axl naked except for his mother’s too-large heels and blonde wig.

“Ahhh Axl Axl Axl, you’re gonna wish I never met your little friend.”

 _This_ is _gonna be the best day ever,_ Amy thought, already planning what to wear (and what Tammy would wear too, she liked being the centre of attention so). But how often plans go south. A few miles away at Stan’s, Stephen was feeling oddly upstanding (a rare occurrence).  Grumbling under his breath, the reverend turned down the offer of another drink.

“No thanks, I’ve got an early service today.” And then home. He’d get to see what the little whore and the bastard child were up to. The child that didn’t even belong in his house—he’d drop in early as a surprise. Who knows? Maybe he’d entertain himself with her tonight.  A repulsive grin spread on his face, and he limped out of the bar humming a soothing hymn.

\-------------------------------

“Are you sure it’s Mozzarella?” Slash asked, crouching to stare at all the fancy cheese. “Check the text again.”

“Of course it’s fucking mozzarella!” Axl snapped, tense with trepidation. He didn’t like this fucking store. Or this fucking atmosphere. Or the judgmental eyes that lingered on them when they first walked in. Or this fucking town, as a matter of fact.

“Watch your fucking tone.” Slash retorted sharply, tossing the package of cheese into the trolley. He was sick of this shit; they were perfectly fine till they set foot in this shitty store. Axl has never seen it, but an anger that rivaled his own lurked beneath Slash’s brown skin, just itching to get out.

The redhead sighed, eyes darting nervously around. “I’m sorry; can we just—leave quickly?”

“Sure man, what’s next?”

“Tomatoes.”

“Ohoo, funny story about that—” The brunette began, maneuvering the narrow aisles as quickly as he could—the redhead’s unease was creeping him out. Axl calmed fractionally at each word, laughing loudly when Slash explains that he and Ash once had a tomato fight.

“What the ever-loving fuck did Ola think of this?”

“Oh, yeah, she kicked our asses.” He muttered sheepishly, “Then had us clean up the mess, and cook for a week.”

“What about your grandma?”

“Ola Sr.? She just watched and laughed—did I mention she had bet on which one of us would win?” Slash chortled, recalling her cackle when his mom walked into the ruined kitchen. “Crafty woman that one.”

“I like her, did she win the bet?”

Slash snorted “She bet on mom, so yeah.” Laughter, rich and musical flooded the store. Axl was staring as Slash like he was a gift from the God he no longer believed in, standing there staring at Axl with a tomato in his grasp—trying his hardest to make things better. The redhead felt overwhelmed by his love for this man, and without thinking, reached for him.

“I love you, you’re such an idiot.” He mumbled reverently, squeezing Slash’s hand in his. “God, you came with—” Someone collided with him from behind, sending him stumbling into Slash’s arms. Ok that was pretty fucking rude.

“What the fuck?” He barked, turning to glare at his aggressor, stopping short when met with that hair-raising smile. _Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit several shits._ He backed further into Slash’s chest, wanting more than anything to just run away.

“Billy! Is it really you?” Creepy Carl the kids used to call him, and he sure looked the part. Thinning greasy hair slicked over his speckled scalp, watery grey eyes peering at you over the rims of his too-large glasses. Carl’s voice was quiet, it should’ve been soothing, but it just served to make him creepier. “Been a while eh?”

_His voice is the same. His clothes are the same. Fuck how could everything be the same?_

 “He a friend of yours Axl?” Slash asked, smiling politely. He didn’t like a thing about the man, hated the way he eyed Axl. The guitarist put himself between them, smile firmly fixed in place.

“Almost didn’t recognize you on the monitor when you walked in a few minutes ago.” Those unsettling grey eyes slid down to where Axl was still clinging to Slash’s hand. Lightning quick, the redhead snatched it away, eyes fixed on his feet when the brunette shoots him a hurt look.

He’d been watching them all along. Slash felt sick and pissed off all at once.

“What do you want?” Axl wailed, distress etched on his face. _What more do you want from me?_

“Funny way we met,” Carl commented, eyeing Slash with evident distaste. “He tried to steal from my store, notebooks and crayons was it? For the girl?”

Axl felt the shame settle heavy on his chest, and he took several steps back without the brunette noticing—or so he thought.  Slash made no mention of it, just continued his staring battle with the asshole in front of him.

This conversation was worthless. If he thought shoplifting would surprise a former kleptomaniac, he had another thing coming. “Is that so?” his voice was practically dripping boredom. “Well, it was nice to see you; we’re kinda in a rush right now.”

He brushed past a shocked looking Carl, sent him stumbling a few steps back.

The older man’s smiled dropped in record time, _why wasn’t he asking more?_ _Why did he seem so uninterested?_ “Ask him! Aren’t you gonna ask him he paid for that stuff? What he had to do?” He shouted to Slash’s back, muscles locking with fear when the brunette turns back with an icy glare.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The old man pressed himself against the wall, mouth working without sound, heart beating too fast. He had misjudged this one.

“I thought so.” Slash stomped off, filled with so much rage he was afraid of what he might do if he stayed any longer. He paid for the groceries (pissed that even a dollar of his money was going to this shit hole), fully aware of every eye on the store trained on him.

Axl was leaning against the car waiting for Slash, the brunette loaded the groceries, started the car—Axl still didn’t speak.

“You ok over there?”

No answer. The redhead was curled up in his seat, staring determinedly out the window, trapped in his gruesome memories. Expecting Slash to demand answers of him any second now. He never did.

“You can fucking ask if you want, I know you want to.” He hissed bitterly.

“What?”

“’bout the shoplifting and how I paid for it.”

“I don’t want to know and you don’t have to tell me.” He stated, struggling to stay calm. His mood was already down in the dumps; whatever the fuck Axl was pulling was badly timed.

“Bullshit, it’s eating you up over there.” He mocked, tracing patterns on the glass. Still too scared to actually face the brunette. “Wanna hear about my unfortunate life to smother me with pity? Treat me like some charity case?”

Slash huffed out a laugh, glancing ever so often over at the redhead “What?—is... is this about the fucking money thing again? I told you, that isn’t what this is.” He shook his head in amazement at Axl’s ability to dredge up resolved shit.

Truth was—it wasn’t about money.

 It wasn’t about pity.

Axl was picking a fight because he was fucking terrified and anger was his only defense. He didn’t want to talk about fucking Creepy Carl, desperately didn’t want to dig up those bones—they were better left alone. “Yeah, that’s what _you told_ me.  Funny, I’ve been told lots of bull in my shitty little life—think that may be one of them?” He was pushing it now, Slash was white-knuckling the staring wheel, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Maybe you’re not so different from that asshole Carl yourself—what were you talking about in there?” And that was the root of this; they were in there for a long time—long after he left.  _What the fuck did Carl say?_ The Shame mingled with fear and tormented his every thought.

The tires squealed when Slash suddenly pulled off the road, he killed the engine and glared at Axl, brown eyes narrowed, voice cold and hard. “You did _not_ just compare me to a—a fucking rapist!” Axl felt everything start to come apart around him, he knew, he knew without asking and the memories loved being summoned again. The almost unbearable pain during the act, his inability to even look Izzy or his sister in the eye after. He squeezed his eyes shut, ripping them open again when the images began to dance behind his lids. But Slash didn’t notice, he was too busy being livid.

 “Axl, honey? You’re full of shit,  let’s not act like you didn’t more or less crawl into _my_ lap crying about how you didn’t want to come here alone—” Axl flinched, cowering against the door, but that didn’t stop Slash “—then you have the guts to throw all this shit in my face? Know what? I’m not sure how _anyone_ puts up with you. Go fuck yourself.” He’s out the door and slamming the car behind him with such ferocity, he fears for an instant the windows will shatter.

Axl felt hollow, useless and so very sorry that he’d ever stopped at that damn store. But at least it was done, right? He didn’t have to explain anything anymore. He could just keep every little ugly detail inside—because surely that was better than having Slash be repulsed by him. _He already is_ , his mind reminded him matter of factly. Maybe, but at least he didn’t know that after Axl walked out on that fateful day, he headed straight for the good pastor’s gun and sat for hours just staring at it, fingering the cold metal, desperately wanting to end it all. Or that he had _bled_ , or that he flinched away from Izzy’s touch for weeks after. That even though Carl had promised not to mention it to Stephen, he did anyway—and he was forced to return every single thing (even after ‘paying’) and was _punished_. 

Tears spilled from his eyes, hot against his face—at least he didn’t know that. But now, he was alone, so fucking alone.

Slash walked a ways off from the car, looking for something to punch, there were trees at least. _Why the fuck had he said that shit? Why couldn’t that idiot keep his mouth shut?_ He was more than ok with hitching a ride to the hotel and hightailing it out of this shitty state in record time.  It was humid. His hair was sweaty. He wanted James—shit he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help that right now.

But Duff’s words wormed their way into his head “ _What I'm saying is, he can get downright malicious, and that place— the things that happened there, it's sure to bring out that streak even more.”_ Slash shook his head, staring out into the distance. Fuck that. Fuck this town. Fuck these stupid trees. “ _He doesn't mean it- the kid has seen some shit...”_ The guitarist plopped himself on the gravel, staring into nothing.... considering... The silence was broken occasionally by the sound of a car whizzing by, it was almost therapeutic. Was this, _shit_ , was Axl lashing out at him some sort of weird defensive mechanism?

The brunette almost laughs, how every _Axl._ Groaning, he drags himself from the ground and begins the walk back to the car—no way he’s leaving that idiot alone, besides, Duff would kick his ass.

Axl raised his head from the dash when the door reopens, letting the torrid air rush in. Slash took one look at him and kicked himself mentally. “You look like shit.” The redhead choked out a surprised little laugh.  “And I love you. And I’m fucking sorry.”

“I—I didn’t mean—” Axl stuttered, pulling his sleeve over the red marks he scratched into his arm, Slash glanced away—bringing that up right now was fucking suicide. “I’m fucked up, I know—and you’re nothing like that dick Carl.”

“—it’s ok, you don’t have to ex—”

“No, I will. I just need a little time.” He stated firmly with way more confidence than he felt. “Please.” It was clear to Axl now that he _had_ to know, or this would just present itself again in a different way _._

“Ok, I can do that.” He smiled as best as he could, “come on, Amy’s probably pissed, clean up. Those pretty blue eyes shouldn’t cry anymore.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Axl commented, swiping at his eyes. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

\----------------------------

It all worked out in the end. They showed up late, Amy chewed them out for a while, but the sincerity of her anger was lessened by the ridiculous smile she was sporting. Tammy was all dolled up, and on the carpet tossing some blocks around while watching TV. As soon as she saw Axl and Slash, she lit up, crawling over to them while she babbled excitedly—probably glad to have more playmates.

Slash followed Amy into the kitchen to help with dinner, eating up her various stories about young Axl’s antics—even through the redhead’s indignant squawks _“I so did not go to my first costume party as a sunflower!”_ His sister brought out evidence, he pouted and mumbled something under his breath before storming out of the house with Tammy over his shoulder—she was outraged on his behalf, muttering what Slash assumed were curses at Axl’s aggressors.

“He really liked flowers,” Amy commented, dicing onions and peppers at alarming speed. “Used to talk to them all the time, like he’d talk to the horses.”

“Horses?” Slash perked up, it was more or less his life goal to ride a horse. He may or may not have had the notion that he’d grow up to be a cowboy. “They’re here now?”

Amy’s smile faded, “Uh...No. Barn’s empty, we had to sell them to pay for... things.” _Shit, that’s probably where Axl was now._ Actually, Stephen had upped and sold the horses out of pure spite, he knew how Axl loved them, knew the boy calmed himself by caring for them—his own brand of therapy—using them to pay off debt was just a bonus. Though Axl was nowhere near here, this was just another one of his acts aimed to hurt him. First it was burning the records, next it was selling the horses. _And occasionally, it’s me._

The redhead returned a few minutes later, looking a bit confused and withdrawn. “Ames...Where’s Silver? The barn is empty. I brought Tam out for a short visit but,” he swallowed around the lump in his throat, “I...”

“He sold them.” She said bluntly, the only way she did anything. “Silver got old,” _and Stephen sold him to a glue factory_ , she very carefully didn’t add that. “The old man fussed about not being able to take care of the farm himself, sold every-damn-thing.” And in truth, he didn’t do shit on the farm, Stu did it all; he wouldn’t have to care for anything If he hadn’t kicked his own fucking son out.

Axl glanced at Slash and quickly looked away. “Oh. Well is Stu coming?”

“Way to ruin the surprise.” She teased, “He’s on his way—dying to see you again.”

Axl laughed, startling Tammy who stared up at him with awe filled eyes. She started giggling, tiny hand fisted in his hair. “I stole his daughter, she likes me better.” He pats her back, loving the smell of her. Gosh, he was an uncle. Holy shit, he never looked at it like that.

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” Amy chuckled. “There is no one that girl loves more than her daddy.”

Dinner was done in no time with Slash’s help, Amy was surprised he could actually cook—at least Axl wouldn’t fucking starve. Stu came shortly after; holding a bouquet of roses and sporting such a shit-eating grin Slash couldn’t help liking the guy on sight. He had hair like Amy’s, dark brown eyes and towered over Axl.

“You’re late, I ate your share.” Axl shouted, rising from the table to pull his little brother into a hug.

“I outgrew you, you little midget.” Stu crowed, handing the roses to Axl. “Roses for Axl Rose.”

The room erupted into laughter while Axl rolled his eyes. Stuart had been pulling this shit since the first time he figured out that Bruce Bailey was actually William Bruce Rose—the reverend more or less demanded that his children stopped talking to the bastard child, needless to say, that failed. The redhead came home to find his room littered with rose petals (that was a bitch to clean up) and a little note saying ‘roses for a rose, bcoz you’re sweet—and well always be brothers :)” (Grammatical errors included) He had grinned for the remainder of the day and made sure he left some candy on Stu’s bed in return.

“I see your jokes are still lame.”Axl returned to his seat, tossing the bouquet in the center of the table. It was a nice touch.

“I see you still have stupid hair.” He taunted, sitting between Amy and Tammy. She shrieked with joy, already trying to squirm out of her chair. “Well... hello there.” He said it while staring at Tammy, but Axl knew Stuart too well—it was definitely aimed at Slash.

The redhead sighed, shoveling more lasagna in his mouth. “Stuart, this is Slash. Slash, this is my little brother, who is such a big pain in my ass.”

They exchanged hellos.

But Stu didn’t get it, Axl didn’t just bring people home.

Well, he brought home Izzy.

Stuart stared Axl down till he started to squirm a little in his chair. That’s when it clicked. “Oh... Ohhhhhhhh... new boyfriend? Thought you were all about gypsies.” Slash all but choked on his food, finally getting that the fucking gypsy comments were about Izzy.

The redhead briefly considered hurling his plate at the little shit’s head, but that was such a waste of perfectly good lasagna. “Oh, Fuck off.” Amy smothered her laughter in her hand.

They bickered for hours, Tammy putting in her two cents ever so often. As the evening winded on, they moved from the dining table, to the kitchen (to wash up), then to the living room where Amy finally brought out the pictures—much to Axl’s chagrin.

“You do notice you have a problem right?” Slash cried, clutching his aching sides. “This is _literally_ a problem.”

“It has been since the dawn of time.” Stu added from his perch on the ground.

“Fuck all of you, but you especially!” Axl snapped, jabbing a finger at Amy.

“It’s not _my_ fault you have some personal vendetta ‘gainst wearing clothes.”

“I do _not_ —”

The guitarist swiped at his watering eyes, lungs aching. “Man, you kinda do...” then they were all falling over each other laughing.  “Well, you do look good in your mom’s makeup.”

“I will murder you—”

“Amy, did you find the one with him crying because a chicken was chasing him?” Stu asked, ignoring Axl completely. “How are you scared of chickens? You grew up on a farm!”

Tammy made a noise of agreement.

“They are vicious motherfuckers, and I don’t trust them one bit.” He hissed, “Unless they’re on my plate—preferably fried.” Tammy passed out some time later, and Stuart had to leave. Axl followed him outside, leaving Amy and Slash alone together; they sat there in comfortable silence.

Amy sighed happily, humming a little tune. Her best dress was rumpled, and she was exhausted—but damn, was she happy “This was good... for us.”

“We should visit more often.” Slash smiled warmly, this has been pretty good.

Axl ducked back into the room sporting a little smile. “What are you two plotting?”

“To destroy ISIS.” Slash replied on reflex, warmed by Axl’s giggles. “Come, sit with us.” He pats the spot on the couch between him and Amy—the redhead complies.  Axl felt so content, he wondered if this was what he needed all along. To come back. To see his demons weren’t that powerful after all.

He didn’t know how long they just sat there, staring at everything and nothing. But he knew precisely when the silence was broken by the slamming of the front door, knew precisely when everything went wrong, knew exactly when Amy realized who it was.

“ _Fuck_.” She hissed wholeheartedly, eyes wide with fear. He was early, this wasn’t right. She froze. Wanted desperately to tell them to leave through the back door but it was too late. Stephen was already standing in the doorway, blocking out the light. “ _Fuck Axl_ , go—”

“Well, Well, Well. You didn’t tell _me_ you were having a reunion.” Axl almost screamed. He wanted to— _needed_ to, until his throat was ruined, until he was bleeding, until he _woke up_.

Stephen stepped into the light, hazel eyes alight with something unpleasant. Slash was instantly on his guard; damnit was everyone in Indiana a fucking psycho? The man certainly looked like he could be a psycho killer. He was big, not exactly tall, but bulky (almost as big as Slash). Even his well-tailored suit couldn’t disguise the lines of hard muscle as anything else. The little grin he was sporting wasn’t what worried Slash, not the muscles—he was old, just a mean looking old man—but his _eyes_. The way he eyed Amy, looked at her like she was the most disgusting thing he’d ever laid eyes on. The way he eyed Slash with mild fascination, but Axl, the way he looked at Axl sickened Slash.

There was so much want in his gaze, he raked his eyes over every section of the redhead’s body, eyed him like he owned him, like he was set on breaking him and using him in any damned way he pleased. “Billy, son, you’re home.”

“Not yer son.” Axl croaked, avoiding those uncanny eyes. He sounded weak and afraid and fuck if he wasn’t. He was still using that stupid aftershave, and it was stirring up some bad memories, never in his life had he imagined being in the same room with the man would affect him this much. Suddenly, he was 13 all over again, cowering from Stephen’s fist, trying to make himself as small as possible so he’d just be left alone.

“Ah but you are.” He stated, walking over to his chair, almost losing his tightly reigned temper when he sits on a toy. “If the _bastard_ is gonna stay in my house,” he commented, holding up the doll and staring at it in fascination, “make sure I don’t see a trace of her.” He casually yanked the head of the Barbie, tossing the parts in different directions.

Slash fucking hated this douche; he watched the headless doll land somewhere near the television with a light thump. Tammy would be upset, it was her favorite doll.

“So Axl, what brings you back to Lafayette? I thought you were too good for us? Wanted city life.” He asked, using his preacher voice—it irked the hell out of Axl and he knew it. The kid looked good, no argument there. He couldn’t help _staring_ , he was so slender, so beautiful, and he had grown, shoulders filled out, muscles more developed. Stephen licked his lips; the devil was running rampant tonight.

James would probably be really disappointed at the murderous thoughts going through Slash’s head. Best case scenario, he’d cover it up.

“I never said that.” Axl mumbled, slumped in the couch, staring at the doll in the corner. “And you know damn well why I left.” It was either he left by his own free will or he’d leave in a body bag. Izzy leaving a year before him just made it worst, he almost went mad (suspected he actually _did_ at some point).

“Watch yourself, boy.”Stephen snapped, splotches of red appearing on his face, veins in his neck pulsing. “Amy, go get my food.”

“But—”

“Now.” He barked, cocking his head and staring her down. Daring her to disobey. She knew what disobedient girls got.

Punishment. And it wouldn’t be pretty.

Amy flinched and walked stiffly towards the kitchen, unable to look anyone in the eye. She really should’ve known this day was too good to be true.

Slash slipped Axl’s hand into his and squeezed it reassuringly, meeting the reverend’s gaze head on. The redhead smiled, feeling a little better from this simple act. He wasn’t a kid anymore; Stephen couldn’t _mess_ with him anymore.

Stephen watched the exchange, feeling the anger pulse and scratch at his skin, dying to get out. He had a problem, he knew it. But Jesus was his healer, he didn’t need the fucking meds his therapist insisted on prescribing him, he didn’t need anger management, and he most certainly did not need some stranger coming into his house and leading what was his astray.

He finally acknowledged Slash’s presence with a unpleasant “You... who are you? Why are you here?”

The brunette made a show of looking around before jabbing a finger at his chest “Oh, _me_? I’m with Axl... I just came for dinner. Your daughter is a lovely cook.” The redhead choked on a laugh, biting into his lip harshly. This man would be the death of him.

Stephen completely lost it. He clutched the arms of the sofa, wishing fervently that they were that idiot’s neck. “You think this is _funny_ huh? So what, you’re full faggot now? Moved on from the little gypsy trash to a—a fucking nigger? There’s no saving you is there?” He felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere; Axl was sitting ramrod straight, eyes blazing.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Axl asked slowly, pulling his hand from Slash’s grasp, almost disappointed in the Reverend. “What the fuck did you just call him? You know, you’ve always been a piece of shit, but I never knew you as a racist piece of shit. Not controlling me anymore must _really_ be getting under your _thin_ skin.”

Stephen was on his feet in record time, voice booming in the room. “What? You insufferable little twat—”

“Should a man of God really be using such foul language?” Slash commented, almost to himself. Rising to his feet when Stephen takes a step towards Axl. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, you know how aggressive niggers can be.” He spat, gaze predatory.

This wasn’t happening. This was his house. This was his fucking castle. This was where his word goes. There is no way in hell they were gonna come into his house and disrespect him—he didn’t know how to deal with this. Suddenly, he had a moment of clarity, the lord reminded him “For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but _cast them into hell_ and committed them to _chains_ of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment.” That’s it. His angel Billy had sinned, had been corrupted by this thing, he couldn’t be brought back. He had to be _chained_. He had to _stay_ here, till judgment.

Slash shared a confused look with Axl; then realization dawned on the redhead, he seemed to know exactly what was going through that psycho’s thoughts. He scrabbled backwards on the couch, face pallid—eyes wide with fear. “No, you fucking can’t!”

It all came to a head when Amy returned with a steaming hot dish of Lasagna. She took one look at Stephen’s stance, at his twitching hands at his sides and felt dread building in her stomach. He only got that look once, the day he almost fucking killed her brother. She did the one thing she could think of; she hurled the dish at his head, watching as the man ducked lightning fast, not even batting an eye. Amy wailed, feeling helpless, why hadn’t it fucking split his head open by some “tragic” twist of fate.  He turned to her with a little smile; she took an involuntary step back. “You’ll be punished for that.” Then he was lunging like an animal for Axl, teeth bared and glinting in the light.  He managed to grab a slender hand, feeling its fluttering pulse beneath his grasp. “You... you’ll be staying here, staying till judge—”

Slash wasn’t having that bullshit, he wrenched Axl out of the old man’s grip, more or less lifting him over the arm of the couch and stepping in front of him. “Yeah, we have a hotel room, I don’t think so.”

The man just blinked for a while, perplexed. This had never happened before, and he’d make sure it never happened again. The angels were whispering to him, and they were enraged. With a hair-raising roar, he charged, throwing his weight behind it, managing to knock Slash into the wall.

Axl narrowly escaped being crushed, he watched, paralyzed, as Stephen punched through the drywall, barely missing Slash’s face. He felt lightheaded, he wanted to help, he really did. But shit, he could barely _move_. A panic attack in this situation was really badly timed—he faintly heard Amy yelling next to him, trying to drag him away.

The smell of alcohol stained Stephen’s breath, Slash wanted to back away, but there really was nowhere to go. Growling, he maneuvers out of the reverends amateur hold with a series of quick steps, grabbing his hand and twisting it behind him cruelly. “Sorry, raised by a military man.” He rasped, hauling the man by his collar and slamming him into the wall. Not nearly as satisfying as concrete.

“You, you fucking nigger—think you can come—” he broke off with a cry of anguish when Slash twists his arm further. This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out! He never lost. God wouldn’t allow—

“Slash, Slash Axl fainted!” Amy cried, struggling to hold up her brother’s weight. His breathing was faint, and shit she would fucking poison that monster if he somehow managed to harm her brother too.

“One second—”

“That’s what he gets! God told you all, if you don’t obey—” The guitarist was had had it with his religious shit.

“Hey loser!” He whirled him around by the shoulder, offsetting the older man then punches him with as much force as he could muster (which was a-fucking-lot at the moment). “Shut the fuck up.” Stephen’s mouth hung open, pressed over his throbbing eye.

“I’ll tell the police! You can’t—”

“Will you mention your history of sexual abuse too?” Slash sneered, daring him to reply.

His mouth closed with an audible clack.

“Thought so.” He shook his head, walking out to where Amy sat with Axl’s head in her lap. Stephen saw it as his chance, as quietly as he could manage he crept up to Slash’s back. “I really wouldn’t do that if I were you, because beating you within an inch of your life is starting to look more attractive by the second.” He secretly hoped the reverend would, he had to do something with this pent up anger.

Spooked, Stephen stilled and back-pedaled, putting as much space as possible between them, crossing himself with shaking hands. “Get out! All of you!”

“Stay with us tonight, please.” Slash whispered, gathering Axl his arms. “He’ll need you there.

“I—I can’t...” She glanced at her father and felt guilt rear its head. "He's... I know he's crazy but..."

“You can’t stay here either, please.” He begged, eyeing Stephen, who was pressed against the wall. The anger was still raging in his eyes, his resolve, strengthening by the second. “He’ll just try some shit again and you know it.

Amy nodded, eyes filled with tears “Ok... ok. But just for tonight.”

Stephen watched the heathens go, watched the corruption walk away with his own daughter and wondered how God had allowed this. He strained to hear something, anything—an answer, an explanation even.

Nothing came, the angels were silent. And for the first time in his life, he doubted himself, wondered if they had spoken to him before at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised I uploaded on Halloween... happy Halloween? xD


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys, the big one.  
> The longest chapter I have ever written to date, I apologise in advance xD

There was nothing, and there was just so _much_ of it.

Axl blinked up (was it even up?) at the nothingness, then turned his head slowly to the side.

More nothing.

He was in his head and he knew it. Knew by the fuzzy dream-like quality of the scene, by the syrupy slowness of his movements, by the screaming silence.

He was just standing there, well not standing, more like just... existing? Just existing, one with the darkness that stretched out in every direction and probably ( _certainly_ ) into infinity.

“What happened this time?” He knew he had spoken, but his voice made no sound here. It was crushingly lonely. 

_It’s been a long lonely_

_Lonely_

_**Lonely** _

_Lonely_

_**Lonely** time. _

Axl laughed ( _soundlessly_ ), his thoughts were a lot louder in here and apparently so was his love of Led Zeppelin. Oddly enough, he could see them, the words, his thoughts. They danced around him, amused him to no end. This was fine, ages ( _meager seconds_ ) had passed since he lay ( _stood?_ ) here and he was beginning to like it.

The scenery had other ideas however, and begun to change. Black faded to white, sitting up _(which way’s up?)_ he watched as the endless space seemed to morph into some sort of room, painfully familiar somehow _._

_I should know this place, I **should**..._

It wasn’t _time_ for him to know yet.

Suddenly, he was sitting, in the most uncomfortable chair of his fucking life. He fidgeted, trying to get comfortable—damnit this was his head, he could at least have a decent fucking chair.

No dice.

The room was complete, more cubicle than anything else—a wee little thing. Pale walls lined with fading floral (hah—gay!) wallpaper. A desk was before him, small and cluttered with a few stray papers (receipts?).

He tried to look up and found he couldn’t, _fucking dream logic._

The silver picture frame on the wall behind the desk caught his eye. (Did that just appear?) It was practically glowing, demanding his attention. _Look familiar?_

His first clue.

 A little girl with gray eyes peeped from beneath the glass, a brunette with rosy cheeks and a joyful smile.

 _I know her, but I don’t really._ It was the strangest of feelings, like staring someone have seen countless times straight in the eyes, never talked to the person in your life, but you’ve seen them around every corner— you just _knew_ them.

Then it was revealed, the smiling girl, the cluttered office, the receipts, and the uncomfortable chair.

 Dread descended on him like a bucket of ice cold water, he shivered and tried to turn away, to run, to fucking change this scenery.

 ** _CreepyCarlCreepyCarl_** _— **no!**_   The words floated around him, big and bold, quivering in a phantom wind, terrified and running into each other. He needed to leave, he needed....

“ _Three_ notebooks, Crayola? What’s this—” **NonOnoNono** “—boy? This shit is what you tried for?”  Carl sounded almost disappointed. _Why could he hear him?_ The voice seemed to surround him, trapping him.

He was sitting again, he didn’t want to face this man, and he didn’t have to because Carl was sitting before him somehow, smiling his fucking smile and staring his fucking stare.

“ _FUCK YOU_ ” He tried to shout it, but Carl just smiled, baring his teeth. “You’re not real and you can’t hurt me!”

No effect. There were no words in the air this time. But Axl had already figured it out, this was a memory, and he couldn’t very well just _change_ the events.

Creepy Carl tilted his head a bit, half of his face was engulfed in shadows _. How odd,_ Axl thought. “Care to tell me how you’ll pay? Because you _will_...”

No answer. He couldn’t answer, he never did back then.

“Should I call your _father_ , Billy?” A small frown flashed in mock concern.

“No, please don’t.” He heard himself say it, but he hadn’t spoken. It was all just a playback of a bad horror movie. “I’ll do **anything**.” He saw his words dance before his eyes, mocking him—a reminder that he had given his consent to this. He _deserved_ this.

 _Checkmate._ “ **Anything**?”

Axl felt his head moving, knew with a sick certainty he was nodding—giving the creep the go ahead to do whatever he pleased. The redhead felt his resolve dying with each passing second, he could do nothing, there was no use fighting.

“Very good, boy.” The voice was behind him now, he could feel the whisper of the words against his cheek, feel the dig of Carl’s bony fingers into his shoulders. “Bend over **T** he **D** esk.”

Ah yes, how could he have forgotten **T** he **D** esk?

The Desk that made the noises every single time Carl thrust into him. Axl almost laughed now, as a teen, he hadn’t cried or screamed even once (wouldn’t give the fucker the satisfaction— _mostly didn’t attempt to because he wouldn’t have been able to stop_ ). He just comforted himself thinking that each grating squeak of the table was a small cry on his behalf.

A cry of sympathy? Maybe.

One of Anger? Probably.

One of despair, most likely.

 **Pain** , most definitely.

The Pain was there, searing hot as he was speared apart. Now this part he knew by heart, this was as realistic as it got. He was pinned to the desk, cold metal pressing against his stomach, pants pulled down to his thighs as Carl forced himself into him. God, the pain was real, as real as it had been all those years ago.

“So tight, boy. I’d never believe you were a slut.” The older man’s voice wavered; his breath reeked of the tobacco he’d been chewing earlier. Axl was surprised he didn’t chew on the limbs of small children like the rumor said; it _was_ believable. He fucked cruelly and roughly, thrusts tailor-made to _hurt_.

Those innocent grey eyes stared down from the wall at him the whole time, frozen smile still perfectly in place, little mouth still hanging open in joy.

_She’s probably as old as Amy, his daughter. I wonder if she has all the things she needs for school._

He laughed without sound.

The table squeaked.

Time dragged on.

Carl grunted.

It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. Ten times worst than he’d remembered. Tears stung the corner of his eyes, but he bit his lip and kept quiet—almost done.  He’d survived his own head before, he could do it again. It would all be over right about n—

“ **For if God did not spare angels when they sinned**,” It came out of nowhere, but echoed all around him, loud, so loud it drowned out the sound of everything else. “But _cast them into hell_ and committed them to **_chains_** _—”_

 **NONONNONONONONNON** , Axl thrashed, barely getting air ( _did you need that in here?_ ) into his lungs, barely moving at all—held down by some unshakable source that he knew with certainty wasn’t phantom Carl (the pain was gone).

 _Chains?_ His mind suggested. **_Chains_** _._

He panicked even more, letting out a little moan of distress.

But Stephen was already in front of him, all docked out in an inky black suit, grinning his Cheshire cat grin. He reached out, slowly, eyes filled with rage— rage so fierce that Axl tried ( _uselessly_ ) to cower from it.

The hands clamped on his squeezed harshly, grip biting into his wrists. “You’ll have to stay here Billy boy, you’ll have to stay here, chained, till _judgment_.”

Axl started to scream, high-pitched and raw in the way only he knew how.

He screamed while Stephen laughed, gripped his shoulders and started to shake him “Wake up boy, Axl—”

“Axl! Axl?!” Slash shook the man’s shoulders frantically, “baby wake up, it’s a dream. It’s just a dream.”

 The redhead sobbed brokenly, staring up at Slash through bleary eyes. “Don’t make him hurt me Slash, he was there—he was trying to—”

“He’s not fucking here, Axl. We’re the only ones here.” He swiped at Axl’s wet face, running his fingers through the shivering man’s hair. “He’s not here; it’s just a bad dream. You know I won’t let him hurt you.” _Christ, what did he see?_ The guitarist could only guess it had something to do with Stephen, or that fucktard Carl. “We’re back at the hotel, you’re in bed, Amy is next door and you’re fine babe.”

“Amy’s here?” Axl asked as his shivers subsided, brain attempting to function again. “You didn’t leave her with that monster did you?”

“I promise you I did not,” Slash muttered, planting kisses into his sweaty hair. “She’s next door, do you want her?”

The redhead shook his head sleepily, heart rate returning to almost-normal. Amy was safe. They checked in earlier. He was safe. Stephen wasn’t near him. “It’s ok, thank you for making sure she came. He would’ve tried...”

“I know.”

“Thank you.” He muttered, fighting to keep his eyes open. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, but Slash was so warm and he felt safe. “Slash, I—I need to know you’re here. Don’t leave me please, I’m scared.” He barely registered the words spilling from his lips, and he didn’t care, he just wanted Slash as close as possible.

“Oh baby,” Slash choked, feeling tears sting the corners of his eyes. “I’m here; I’m not leaving, want me to talk to you?”

“Yeah.” _Please._

“Ok... ok, I can do that.” He muttered, shifting beneath the covers and pulling Axl impossibly closer. His small body was damp with sweat and still shuddering occasionally, fuck _, fuck_ his heart was screaming for the bloody murder of whoever hurt Axl. “Have I told you about my snakes? Bonnie, the anaconda? and Clyde?”

Axl shifted closer, burying himself in Slash’s scent, smiling faintly. “You did not.”

He dragged in a deep shuddering breath, squeezing Axl tighter. “Hmm, well they’re partners in crime. A lot like Steven and Duff actually, a pain in the ass, but so cute you can’t even actively be mad...”

Slash kept talking, till he ran out of stories to tell. Axl went back to sleep somewhere along the way, and did not dream.

The guitarist tossed and turned hours after, jumping at every small sound Axl made in his sleep, hating that he couldn’t somehow guard his dreams and chase nightmares away.

“I don’t want you to cry anymore.” That was it, as simple as it sounded. He felt lost, and utterly helpless. Stealthily, he crept a safe distance away and called James—keeping his eyes locked on the redhead’s face.

James’ voice filtered through the speakers, familiar and welcoming, only slightly slurred “Now what reason would you have for calling me at this ungodly hour? Did you crash the car?”

“I...” Slash struggled to steady his voice, biting viciously into his bottom lip. “Fuck James, I don’t know what to do.”

James was fully awake now, sitting up in his bed with the sheets pooling around him. _God, what happened?_ The older man barely got out “Saul, what are you—” before Slash was breaking down, body shaking with the force of his sobs.

“I just don’t know what to _fucking_ _do_.”

 ----------------------------

Guilt was attacking Amy from every direction possible.

Since she had arrived last night, she had been deathly quiet, eyeing all the fancy decorations with an air of disbelief. It had never occurred to her that people could afford this lifestyle in shitty little Lafayette. When Slash had paid for another room, Amy almost keeled over.

“You don’t _really_ have to—”

“That’s fine, I _want_ to.”

“But it’s so _expensive_ and—”

Slash had just chuckled and waved it off, “it’s the least I can do, consider it payment for the pictures and lovely dinner.” Amy had found herself wondering, not for the first time, just what the fuck Slash did for a living. It would probably be rude to ask _‘are you a drug cartel of some kind?_ ’

So here she was: poolside at some Hilton hotel in her faded dress and thread bare flats. _And where is dad? Somewhere home nursing a black eye all because of me, fuck._ No matter how many times Stephen abused her, showed his true colors, mocked and jeered her, she still felt some sort of attachment to him. He was her dad god damnit, crazy as they come but who else was gonna—

A gentle tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts “Amy...” 

“Oh.” The brunette squinted up at the sun, dragging herself back to the present. “Sorry, Sarah. I was distracted.” _Gone again, space brain Ames?_ Axl would tease.

“Yeah, I figured.” She muttered, smiling warmly, fingers moving nimbly through Amy’s long hair. “You look stressed outta your mind. Is Axl ok?”

Sarah had been helped them get a room at that ridiculous hour last night, had given Amy a crash course in how things worked at the hotel (She’d been too embarrassed to ask Slash for help) and was the only one approachable in this goddamn place. Secretly, Amy craved female company, her mom was—well, she was something else; Tammy’s mother barely came around and Axl— _funnily enough_ —was the closest thing to a sister she had ever had (he had even allowed her to dress him and have tea parties). She cast a glance at all the posh older women sitting in their equally posh swimsuits sipping martinis—they glanced at her and quickly looked away. Amy flinched, they were the only ones poolside in actual clothes, normal clothes—Sarah’s tee and skinnies were fine in her book.

“Amy, I’m done.” Sarah called, laughter evident in her tone. “We look as posh as everyone else.”

She blushed, she had spaced out again. Gingerly, she raised a hand to her newly styled hair, running her fingers down the intricate braids. “Thanks, man.” When was the last time she had done something this normal? She was unable to keep the sadness from her tone when she muttered “They still look at me the same though.”

Sarah clicked her tongue, “Silly Amy, they can’t actually change their facial expressions, it’s all that Botox.”

A few heads snapped up, Sarah didn’t give a fuck.

They both were cackling in an unladylike manner, drawing the glances of more and more women. “See? No change.”

Amy was about to enthusiastically agree but Slash was jogging towards them, face serious. “Hey ladies.” He couldn’t have sound more stressed if he tried, “how are you liking the pool?”

“It’s fucking A,” Amy said, eyes scanning his worried face. _Was something wrong with Axl?_ “I’m wearing my special poolside dress for the occasion.”

“Good, that’s... good.” He answered distractedly, sitting on a pool chair beside the two. Now Amy was sure something was wrong, Slash would have most likely nagged her to go get a swimsuit—apparently they’d get them anything they asked for—the perks of being in the most expensive rooms in the hotel. “Sarah, can you do me a favor?”

She threw up her hands in mock exasperation “ _Christ_ , if it’s about cake again—”

Slash laughed through his blush, “That was _one_ _time_ ok? This is, different.”He glanced around him before leaning forward conspirationally. “Call off the cleaners please— _no_ , just hear me out, it’s not drugs—can you get someone to... assess er... damage?

Amy watched the exchange, relaxing a bit, then tensing when she heard the word _damage._ Oh God, oh no... She knew then and there what this really was.

 _Are these two for real?_ Sarah chewed on the inside of her mouth, trying to keep her voice steady when she asked _“_ Did you guys... break stuff while... you know?”

“Oh, Christ no!” Slash was almost positive he couldn’t get any redder, “Nothing like that. I—fuck, why’d you have to say that?” Burying his face in his hands to avoid more eye contact was the only way out.

The two ladies shared a look and giggled. “Well what is it then?”

“Just...” How the fuck was he to explain that Axl went into one of his rages while he had left to talk to James (a second time) this morning. “Yeah... yeah we broke stuff while fucking last night.” Much easier.

Amy shot him a knowing look but did not comment. Sarah appeared unconvinced but mumbled something about pulling some strings before walking away.

“He fucking raged again, didn’t he?” Amy whispered, staring at her hands in her lap. The episodes had been a part of Axl for as long as she could remember, and it only served to get him punished more than the others. “It’s psychosis.” She commented in that blunt manner of hers. Psychology class was one of her favorites while it lasted. “And he won’t get help, because he’s scared of doctors. Scared they’ll lock ‘im up.” He was mostly scared to leave Amy, Stu and Sharon (because at one point, he had taken to protecting her too) alone, scared of what Stephen would do with him gone. Maybe that had changed now, maybe Slash could get him help.

The brunette blinked, staring at her in shock. “Uh... yeah... he—” Slash scrubbed a hand over his face, “he had a nightmare last night and, fuck, I left him for a few minutes a while ago, ya know? To talk to my uhm...James—when I got back, things were fucking bad.”

Amy nodded. That sounded like an Axl rage. “He’s scared right now, and he automatically translates fear to anger. It’s all he allows himself to feel sometimes...” _It’s so much easier than fear._

Oh he was getting that, he was getting that very clearly now. “I...yeah, Psychosis huh?” He should’ve fucking been there for Axl _, shit_ , he’d _promised_.  Slash felt sick all at once, he’d gone to sob about his own problems and forgot about Axl’s completely.

“I had a knack for psychology, got real worried about Axl one day.” Amy’s smile wavered and almost disappeared. “Skipped school and went to the library to read up on shit like that, he freaked out when I told him what it was. Never saw him that terrified in my life.” She barked a hard laugh, “I suggested he get help, and Stephen swore up and down it was demons and suggested _prayer_.”

“This is all my fucking fault.” Slash hissed, “I just needed to talk—”

“I highly doubt it is. You can’t always tell what triggers him or anything, but you stepping out for a few minutes wouldn’t do it.” Amy squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, “now let’s go see what Sarah has for us.”

The small brunette was signaling them from a few feet off, beckoning them towards her.

Slash chuckled a little at the frantic waving and took Amy’s small hand in his own “Yeah, ok.”

\----------------------------------------

This wasn’t happening.

This happened.

He had no fucking idea _how_ this happened.

He was seriously hoping he had gone a little heavy on the coke last night and this hallucination was the result.

“No, it’s not the coke.” Izzy said, sucking in a lungful of cigarette smoke. “And _no_ , you’re not hallucinating. We fucked.”

Duff blinked, stared from the brunette to his own shirtless state, trying to make sense of whatever was being said.

“WHAT!” He barked, looking frantically around the room for Punk’d cameras. This had to be some cruel joke.

“Duff, calm down.” A muffled voice came from the sheets to his right, and ok, what the fuck? Sheets don’t talk. Steven pulled the covers from his messy blonde hair to glare at both men. “And both of you shut up, it’s too fucking early.”

The bassist watched in slight shock as Izzy fixed Steven with a fond look. “It’s almost midday.” He commented, raising a brow.

“Yeah, too fucking _early_.” The drummer mumbled as he snuggled closer to Duff. “I deserve the extra rest; you’re not the one that got fucked.”

“Actually, I was too.” Izzy mumbled, shifting a bit at the foot of the bed.

“Really?” Blue eyes peered over the sheets, squinting a bit as he attempted to remember last night. The brunette nodded, glancing pointedly at Duff. “Jeez, come back to bed then.” Izzy considered the offer then put out his cigar, crawling on all fours up the bed and settling between the two blonds.

“Woah Woah Woah, are you serious?” Duff croaked, still very much in shock. “Are you two shitting me right now?” The blond struggled to ignore how good the two men look tangled together next to him—this had to be some fucked up wet dream. The Gods were having a field day with this.

Blue and Grey eyes fixed him with equally unimpressed stares. “Shut up, Duff.”

“Yeah,” Stevie echoed, “Shut up. Tops are always so fucking bossy.”

“Does he _always_ top?” Izzy mumbled, allowing the blond to play in his hair. “He _could_ be taken down a notch or two.”

Izzy felt Steven’s laughter rumble in his chest “Oh, hell no. He totally loves dick, once you get him on all fo—”

Duff’s small croak of disbelief interrupted them. “What... is this The Twilight Zone?”

The men actually begun to look concerned now. “Duff, just how much coke did you do?”

“He was drinking too, wasn’t he?” Izzy mused, sitting up to eye Duff critically. “You invited us over, to sort things out.”

“And we did and all, but then we started drinking a bit...and I got a little jealous...” Steven was trying hard not to laugh; _‘little’_ was such an understatement.

Oh.

Ohh Fuck.

Yeah, they talked alright, about everything. Izzy gave Steven tips about how to resist his urges for heroin, Duff explained why he was so caught up with Izzy and Izzy explained why he pulled all this crazy shit—they all had a big laugh about it together.

“Oh my God.” Duff buried his flaming face in his hands with a groan. “Oh my God, we had sex because you were jealous Izzy kissed me and decided to kiss him yourself to see what the big deal was. You got carried away and everything went haywire.”

 

_“I didn’t expect him to kiss me back.” Izzy muttered, playing in Steven’s hair, “I expected a punch to the face or something, and everyone would live happily ever after.”_

_“Yeah right.” Duff snorted, words slurred from the vodka, “Like I could resist when you kiss like **that**.” The brunette blushed—a rare occurrence—and looked away._

_“Like what?” Stevie asked, glancing at them both._

_“Like, really good.” The bassist words spilled before he could stop them, but Steven didn’t look mad, instead he eyed Izzy’s lips with faint curiosity. Hmm..._

_“Kiss me then.”Steven suggested. Izzy was about to point out that—hello, your boyfriend would break me in half—but the drummer’s lips were pressed against his before he could part them properly to reply._

_Duff watched, turned on as fuck, as Steven lost himself completely to Izzy, going lax and moaning, clutching at silky black curls_

“It was good though.” Izzy laughed at Duff’s pained expression. “Three cheers for the giraffe’s impressive stamina.” The more he had talked the Stephen the more he had liked him, and the closer they drifted. Him demanding a kiss was just Izzy’s luck, he would have probably done it (and gotten punched for his efforts) anyway.

“Best night ever.” Steven chirped, wriggling his brows. “Izzy I didn’t know you could bend that way or kiss that way.”

Then they were both collapsing on the bed and laughing hysterically, and Duff had no choice but to join them. This whole situation was fucking crazy.

“Do we tell Mich this is how we solved our problem?” Duff asked, shaking his head in awe. “She’d probably laugh in our faces or give a medal or something.”

“I think she’d give us medals. _Congrats, you’ve solved your problems with a threesome._ ” Steven watched Izzy bury his face into the pillow with a little grin. “We have Izzy to thank for this.”

The man in question stared silently back at Duff with a little smile playing on his lips.

The bassist rolled his eyes and mused out loud “So, what now?” The two men shared a look and smirked wickedly.

“Hmmm...” Steven’s hand disappeared beneath the sheets and Izzy jerked a bit when it wrapped around his length. “Now, we take you down a notch.”

“Or two.” Izzy added, breaking off with a moan. Steven’s calloused hand was working him over skillfully, and he found himself thrusting into that perfect grip. “Duff fuck... just—” _get over here._

Duff swallowed hard, feeling heat curl low in his belly. Steven’s baby blues were trained on him, hand still moving beneath the sheets, pulling the sweetest little sounds from Izzy. “Are you gonna just sit there and stare at us?”

_Well, that didn’t exactly sound like a bad plan per say._

Izzy huffed and wriggled away from Steven. “Come,” he patted the space between them with a little smile. “It’s your turn.”

Duff was moving before he could stop himself, shivering when the brunette trails an elegant hand down his chest. Stephen’s lips are on his own, and he’s kissing him, disrupting his thoughts with the slick slide of his tongue.

“Izzy, play with his tits, he’ll lose it in no time.” And that’s something Duff had to get used to, Steven’s filthy mouth, he was completely weak to it, it fucked him up in ways he couldn’t explain. _This isn’t fair; I’m helpless against them both._

The brunette trailed kisses to a dusky nipple, taking one into the wet heat of his mouth. Duff choked on a moan and fucked his hips up into nothing, trying to get friction on his aching cock.

“Hey Stevie, know what would be fun?” Izzy’s hot breath washed over the hardened nub.

“Apart from taking Mikey down a notch or two?” Steven laughed, wrapping a hand around Duff’s cock, swiping a thumb through the liquid pearling at the tip. The bassist growled low in his throat when skilled fingers find his other nipple and tweak it.

Izzy pulled away, groping around for something. He then raised a slip of black cloth triumphantly in his hand. “How about, we blindfold him, and then have our wicked way, hmm?”

Duff gulped, ignoring the way his body singed at the idea. “Uhm...” They both ignored him, except for Steven’s hand that kept pulling on his cock.

“Should we tie up his hands too? He gets a bit touchy.”Steven liked the idea of a helpless Duff more and more by the second.

Izzy nodded, “Sure, grab a tie, let’s go all out.”

The last thing Duff saw for a while was Izzy, with mussed up black locks, leaning over him with the makeshift blindfold, smiling to rival the sun. “Don’t worry, we’ve got you.”

Steven met his gaze and winked, “Just let go for a bit, eh?”

 _Let go_ , huh? He could do that.

\-------------------------------------

“I still don’t see why you can’t talk to _me_.” Ola all but whined in Slash’s ear, “I’m not busy or anything.”

 _‘Yeah, but I am’_ would probably just earn him a proper chewing out, so he kept quiet.

Slash sighed as he watched Sarah and the manager (who was apparently her dad) calculate the damage done to the room—it wasn’t that bad per say, at least Axl didn’t really break anything... just flipped them more or less. The shower was running, the minx wasn’t actually in the room to see just what he had caused.

“Saul...Saul?” She was quickly becoming more irritated. “Are you listening?”

“Sure am, Ma.”

“Well what did I say?”

“You asked if I was listening.” Slash laughed when she growled through the speakers.

“Well, sweetie, if you were having problems why didn’t you call me?”

“James was the first person that came to mind, since he knows the whole situation.” He said, trying to calm her before this blew way out of proportion. The old man probably decided to call her when he had hung up abruptly earlier after walking in on the scene. “Besides, it was late, I wouldn’t wanna wake you.”

Sarah took looked the receipt over and nodded, waving the piece of paper at Slash. “Well, that’s not so bad; you guys didn’t really go crazy or anything. I’m still confused as to why the book shelf was overturned too but... whatever.” She still sounded a bit skeptical, but decided to drop it.

“Wait,” Ola asked with mounting panic, “is that a girl in the background? Slash... are you cheating on Axl?!”

“Mother, I am not cheating on Axl!” He cried, flushing when Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. “Shut up, you.”

Ola scoffed “Excuse me? Young man, I will jet all the way to wherever you are and smack you _silly_.”

He believed her.

“No, that wasn’t for _you_ , that was for—” he breaks off with a sigh, “listen, I’ll call you back later.”

“What? Why? Are things ok with Axl? James sounded worried...”

Slash felt a little guilty, “Yeah, we’re fine, he’s in the shower.”

“With the _girl_ there?” Well, he couldn’t exactly blame her for distrusting every female that came within a three mile radius of him since the Perla incident, but this was just ridiculous.

“Mother...”

“Ok... ok, fine. New age relationships will always puzzle me. Goodbye.”

He almost laughed at the confusion in her voice, he’d have to explain that later “Bye, Mom.”

“Wow. Well then, I’ve been here five minutes and you’ve already cheated on Axl with me?” Sarah murmured, passing the bill to Slash. “Guess it’s true what they say about rockstars and hotels huh?”

“Yeah...” Slash replied, eyeing the bill in disbelief. “Why does it look so... cheap?”

The brunette laughed, “Shut up. I’m helping you out, half of this shit doesn’t need to be replaced, just repaired. Thank me later.”

“You’re the best, man.” He said wholeheartedly, “saved our ass twice, you should ask for something in return.”

“Hmm... we’ll see.” And she was leaving without a backward glance, humming something that sounded oh-so familiar to Slash.

It was only after she left that he registered her comment: ‘ _Guess it’s true what they say about rockstars and hotels huh?’_

Oh, she knew.

It was odd how calm he felt about that.

And the humming... was one of his songs. He stood there in the centre of the room laughing himself silly, it was partially his fault. Once they had reached Indiana, he hadn’t seen the point in hiding anymore—from what exactly? The trees?

 Axl sauntered out of the bathroom to find Slash sprawled on the bed still giggling a little.

“What... the actual fuck is up with you, Slasher?”

“Sarah knows who I am.” He said, laughing up at the ceiling. “It’s hilarious.”

“Well yeah, she was wearing a Slash shirt last night, when we were checking in?” Axl sounded faintly amused, “Did you miss that?”

“She was?” He asked, blinking at Axl. “Wow, I’m turning into you. Totally clueless.” The redhead still seemed a little off, fidgeting with his bathrobe and chewing on his bottom lip. “Axl, what’s up?”

He was trying to talk, he swore he was. But words were never his strong point, and Slash was staring at him so expectantly—waiting for some sort of explanation. Irritated, Axl growled “Nothing.”

“Woah, that doesn’t _sound_ like nothing.”

Axl made a frustrated little sound, he couldn’t explain it, he didn’t want to _talk_ —and he needed to not think for a while. He didn’t know what he needed, the words were fighting him.

Or maybe he did? How did he usually work through this? Forget his problems? Let go?

“Slash...” Axl all but crawled across the bed and right into his personal space, so close he could smell his cologne. “Do me a favor?” _Please don’t say no... I need it, so bad._

He was definitely worried now, “Yeah, what’s up babe?”

“Fuck me. Hard.” He deadpanned, feeling a blush work its way up to the tips of his ears.

Slash was confused to say the least; people coming out of a traumatic experience usually needed a good cry and a cuddle—not violent fucking. It all seemed illogical, but when had Axl ever made sense? “Uhm, are you up for this right now? Are you feeling ok?”

“No.” He growled, quickly devising another plan to get just what he needed (or what he _thought_ he did). “Didn’t you fucking hear me? I _need_ it.”

“Where the hell is this coming from exactly—”But Axl’s lips were crushed to his in record time, mouth hungry and possessive. Tongue swiping obsessively over his plush lower lip, teeth biting hard enough to draw blood.

He was pushing it, and he knew it—but _fuck_ , he loved the heady rush of adrenaline he got from it.

“It’s coming from _me_ , now do it.” He snapped, warm breath washing over Slash’s face, thrilling when he saw those brown eyes darken. “Or I’ll find someone who fucking will.” The threat hung there between them in the silence, Axl did not retract it, though it seemed Slash was waiting for him to—waiting to see if he meant it. He didn’t really, but if there was one thing Axl could do well its bluff.

Slash’s face hardened and Axl’s breath caught, the excitement causing him to shiver. _Yes yes yes yes yes_

“Why do you always have to be _so. fucking. rude_?” Then Slash’s large hands were closing around his wrist and squeezing and Axl finds it hard to stifle the little gasp that forces its way from his throat. “Just keep your hands to yourself and get on your back.”

The redhead’s stomach spasmed at the order, heart going a mile a minute. He obeyed quickly, shrugging off his bathrobe and reclining unto the fluffy white sheets, practically trembling with anticipation. Slash is gone for a minute, and Axl is left lying there half-hard and frustrated and a bit self-conscious.  But then he’s back, hard gaze still intact.

“You know, I shouldn’t even prep you.” He mused out loud even as he slicked up his fingers. “Should just fuck you dry, tear you up, huh? That’s what you want?”

Axl opened his mouth to reply, but all the air was forced out of him when Slash roughly forces a finger into him. “Yes, fuck yes.” His hips jerked when the finger finds that spot and roughly presses against it; _fuck_ his cock ached for some pressure against it. “T-touch me, please. I need—” _Make it hurt_ , _make me forget._

Slash ignored him, adding another finger and working them ruthlessly in and out without giving him time to adjust. “Hmm... funny how you get so polite when you’re begging to be fucked.” Axl flushed all the way down to his chest, trying to stifle the sounds he’s making but at the same time fucking devouring this new side of Slash he’d never seen.

“Slash...” He tried to warn him, tried begging him to slow down because he’s getting him riled up too fast and he’s never gonna hold out at this rate, but Slash doesn’t seem to take any notice since he’s working in a _third_ finger, so Axl gives up completely. The burn is almost too much and not enough at the same time, he had missed this, missed this much more than he’d care to admit.  Slash’s fingers are driving into him with such lewd _wet_ sounds that Axl had to squeeze his eyes shut at the sheer embarrassment of hearing them. “Fuck, please don’t—” The brunette smirked, spreading his fingers in Axl’s hole, grunting in sympathy when the redhead’s hand flies to the base of his cock and squeezes.

“Fine...” Slash sighed after taking Axl’s strained appearance; he was basically strangling his cock in an attempt not to come. So the guitarist took pity and stopped completely, pressing a firm hand up against his own crotch when Axl’s ass clenched around his fingers. “I won’t let you come, but remember, you _asked_ for this.”

The redhead had less than a second to consider just what the fuck that meant before his hand is being shoved away and replaced with Slash’s. “Fuck, babe. You’re so wet.”

Axl sobbed, “Yes, fuck yes. For you...” trying to twist his hips up into that delightful grip and fuck himself down on those fingers. He was losing his mind and he’s sure of it. Can’t remember exactly what he was strung tight about, what the grey mist around his mind was. Only knew the pleasure that was threatening to tear him apart, the name of the person giving him that pleasure and that he ~~wanted~~ , needed more.

“Poor baby.” Slash cooed, voice husky, enjoying this way too much. “I guess you want me to fuck you now?” He pressed a nail into the slit just to hear Axl mewl and watch him writhe about on the bed.

“Yes, yes please. Fuck me!” Axl licked his lips, watching Slash’s eyes track the movement, barely stopping himself from begging for a kiss. He was close, so close in so little time. But the only way he was coming was with Slash inside him. “I wanna come, while you— with you inside please.”

“Hmm...” The brunette pulled his fingers out, leaving Axl completely empty and clenching around nothing, shivering and on edge. The redhead felt cold all at once, and so very frustrated he could cry. “Do you deserve it though?” Slash muttered and he pulled off his shirt, almost laughing when Axl licks his lips on the sight of his bare chest. “No touching.” He reminded him, even as he pulls down his pants and tosses them aside.

Axl chewed his bottom lip raw, watching Slash grip the thick line of his cock through his boxers and _stroke_. He felt himself twitch against his stomach, leaking even more sticky fluid, felt himself flush darker than before. He’s aching and empty and _God_ he deserved every bit of this punishment but he can’t help feeling just a _little_ desperate. “Slash,” he decided to try on his best angelic voice. “Slash, would you fuck me _please_?”

Still sitting back on his heels, Slash tilted his head and pretended to consider, groaning as his thumbs at the damp head of his cock. “Please, be a _bit_ more convincing.”

“I’ll pay you with cake if you stick your dick in me.” He deadpanned, cheering internally when Slash’s stern expression wavered.

The darker man quirked a brow at his antics “Aww shucks, guess you’ll have to work for it then.” Axl’s brain was having a real problem keeping up with the conversation, he watched Slash move back against the headboard, stroking himself languidly while he stared.

Oh.

Looked like he’d indeed be working for it.

Axl wanted to growl and whine and _bitch_ , because all he wanted was to be bent over any available surface and fucked within an _inch_ of his life, but Slash wasn’t having it. Cursing every step of the way, Axl maneuvered himself till he was straddling Slash’s thighs, glaring at him belligerently.

The brunette actually laughed at that, gripping Axl’s chin and staring him in the eyes. “You’re so full of sass, even when you’re the one _begging_ to be fucked.”

The redhead bit back the sassy reply dying to roll off his tongue and groped around for the bottle of lube, slicking Slash’s dick whilst trying to savor the feel of him. He tossed his hair over his shoulders and gripped that length as he sinks down as slowly as he would allow himself.

Slash watched his face contort with emotion, pleasure and pain warring on his features. _Fuck_ , Slash filled him up proper; he couldn’t withhold the broken moan that left him. The guitarist was trying his best not to thrust up, closing his eyes at the sight that was too much for his tattered control at the moment. As soon as he was fully seated he begun to move, rocking his hips in small motions, gripping Slash’s broad shoulders and quickly getting used to the stretch.

Those minute movements quickly transformed into something needier, hips rising and falling as he fucked himself on that cock. Moaning at the shocks of pleasure shooting up his spine, it had been too long. But it was hard to get the _right_ angle without Slash’s cooperation, no matter how much he twisted and curled his hips, no matter how hard he slammed them downwards. It _wasn’t enough_.

“Slash?” he whined, getting tired of being denied.

“Hmmm?” Axl was pleased he sounded strained, like he was barely keeping himself in check.

“Slash, _please_ —” he was completely shameless now, eyes filled with tears that were threatening to overflow. “Please, please, please baby, fuck me.” He wailed, not even attempting to hide his desperation. He needed this.

It must have sounded sincere enough because the room was suddenly spinning and then he was flat on his back staring up into those warm brown eyes. “All you had to do was ask nicely.”

Then he was fucking into him hard, fucking right up against that spot that made Axl’s whole world flicker and his toes curl and his back arch—and _fuck_ , he wasn’t slowing. Slash rammed into him at a perfect angle, over and over again, until Axl felt the rawness of his throat and realized he _must_ be screaming things. He was right there, on the brink, again—had been since he had started this whole little game and insisted on dragging it out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, _harder_!” Axl was surprised he was making sense anymore, was surprised he was getting words out at all through all his pathetic moans and cries.  Was even more surprised when Slash complied and hiked his legs up over his shoulders, leaning forward and bending him almost in half. “I’m—I’m gonna— _aahh_ fuck—”His whole body begun to tense, eyes rolling back. Finally—

Slash fucking _stopped_ , just completely stilled inside him.

Axl groaned, teetering dangerously on the edge, balls drawn up tight. He opened his eyes to gaze blearily up at Slash was smiling down at him all too smugly.

“Wha—”

“I really don’t think so.” He shifted, eased Axl’s legs off his shoulder, moving carefully so he wouldn’t get any friction on his swollen cock from the movements. “You’re not cumming yet.”

Axl shivered, feeling his cock throb dangerously at Slash’s tone. _Oh, God, I’m gonna die like this. I’m gonna die and I’m totally ok with it._

He waited it out, waited till Axl came back from the edge before he started moving again, forcing fucked out little moans from Axl’s already-ruined throat. Slash had him at there again in no time, had Axl clawing at his back and bucking his hips desperately, trying to sneak a hand down there to relieve himself—but his efforts were futile cause Slash _wouldn’t fucking let him_ , was somehow able to snatch his wrists and pin them above his head lightning quick.

Around the fourth (fifth? Axl lost count) time, the redhead finally broke down, scalding hot tears spilling down his flushed cheeks, body racked with little hiccups. Every press of Slash’s hips forced another hot wave of tears from his eyes. This was torture for both of them, the best kind, but torture nonetheless.

“Ready to cum now?” Slash husked, curls clinging to his face, sweat running in rivulets down his back. He didn’t know how much longer he could play this game, his cock was screaming to empty itself into Axl’s slick heat—he was on his final lap.

“Yes yes yes yes.” Somewhere in the melted mess of his brain he was able to remember he asked not to come, finally able to remember what he needed to say. He dragged in a shuddering breath, “please, _please_ let me cum baby, I need—”

That was all Slash needed to hear, he snaked a hand between them, and wrapped it around Axl’s aching cock. The sound the redhead makes at the contact goes straight to his cock. “Come on then, cum for me.”

Axl lost it, going limp as wave after wave of come spurted out of him. Had he actually ever come this hard before? He couldn’t recall, all he knew was that in those few seconds everything was right in the world and he solved all of the universe’s problems. He dimly registered Slash shouting above him as he came, emptying himself into his channel. Axl hummed and smiled, Slash was empty but he was full, fancied he could feel each rope of his lover’s cum being shot into him. He felt Slash trying to pull out but dug his heels into his thighs with a noise of protest.

“No, stay.” He liked feeling full, liked the feel of Slash on top of him. Liked his smell, liked his stupid hair and the way it tickled his cheeks.

Axl pressed contented kisses into the brunette’s neck. This was fine.

“I don’t think this is very comfortable for you.” Slash rumbled, “wait, let’s switch.” He shifted very carefully, somehow managing to get Axl on top of him again without pulling out.

“Not sure how much longer I can stay in.” Slash huffed, sounding close to laughter. He rubbed Axl’s back soothingly when the redhead growls. “Not my fault, blame science.”

“Stay hard forever...”

“Isn’t there a Viagra commercial that warns against just that?”

Axl laughed quietly, smacking Slash’s bicep “Fuck you man.”

“Next time.” He promised quietly. Axl hummed in agreement—he’d have his revenge.

They finally got around to showering sometime later when Slash reminded him that dried cum was not fun to get rid of. After a steaming hot shower, they returned to bed completely exhausted but oh so happy it was almost ridiculous.

“Hungry?”

“I was just full of your cum, thanks.” Axl shot back, snorting in an undignified manner at the look of pure horror on Slash’s face. “Oh you poor soul.”

“Please, shut up. We can go get food later, after my memory of that sentence dies.”

Axl rolled his eyes theatrically “Yeah, yeah.”

“I noticed you redecorated our room.” Slash commented, trying for casual. “What brought about this bout of artistic insight?”

The redhead sighed, too fucked out to be defensive right now. “Sorry man. I called the hospital earlier, when I woke up, to check in?” _Actually to ask if they’ve finally taken her off life support and just who the fuck was paying for that shit._ Turns out, Stephen was, probably draining church funds in the process. That’d probably sound... harsh.

“Oh?”

“Uh huh. Trying to set up a final visit before we leave in a few days.” He sighed, “Turns out, she doesn’t _want_ to talk to me. Doesn’t want to see me and she _still_ refuses to die.” The last bit came out without his permission; he bit his lips and looked away from Slash’s questing gaze. “Yes, I’m horrible, I know. Completely worthy of your hate.”

Slash snorted, “must you always be so overly dramatic? From what I hear of your mother she isn’t exactly undeserving.”

“No, she isn’t, she does deserve every bit of it.” He hissed, warming up to the subject. “You know she only brought me here for forgiveness before she died? She doesn’t give a single shit about me, or Amy, or Stu. Just her dear husband Stephen and her boyfriend Jesus.”

The guitarist laughed at that, handing Axl a smoke. “Sounds like a pain in the ass.”

“Yeah it is. So, I got a little angry this morning—I’m sorry baby. I’ll pay you back once I’m rich and famous.”

“I believe you.” He muttered through a giggle, puffing out smoke and wondering if now was the right time to ask about that nightmare last night. “So what’s up with you?”

“Hmm?” Axl rolled over unto his side, propping up himself with an elbow to stare Slash down. “What’ya talkin’ about?”

“Everything. Anything.” Slash sighed, a wistful little sound. “Nothing, if you want.”

The redhead nodded, looking off into the distance in consideration. “Where... where do I start?”

Slash rolled over to face him, smiling encouragingly though his heart was racing in his chest. “Anywhere.”

So Axl told him all about it in whispered and hushed tones, pulled stories from various times in his life. Confessing all the things he’d done that he hadn’t told anyone else (except Izzy, but Izzy really wasn’t anyone else, they were one in the same as far as Axl was concerned). He told him about the nightmares, about Carl, about just how bad Stephen was—about his dad and what he’d done to him. About his mom, and what he had done to her _(“I’m probably a bad person for that, but I can’t remember a time when I’ve been good_ ). When he could no longer look Slash in the eye, he rolled to his back, stared up at the pristine white ceiling and rambled on while tears stung the corners of his eyes. Clung to Slash’s hand like a lifeline when it was offered to him during the rough parts (so he was clinging most of the time). When he needed comfort, he’d snuggle closer to his lover and bury his words in his curly hair and Slash would play with the coppery red strands of his own.

 He could bare himself like this, and it was fine, because Slash already knew him intimately. Took him apart and put him together, held him so tightly through the whole thing. Fuck, Slash _loved_ him, so maybe, just _maybe_ , he’d still continue to once he knew the whole story. Once he knew all of Axl.

It took him hours to even summarize just a portion of his life, laughing through the tears and blinking at Slash who stared at him in such admiration and love.

“Are you looking at me like that because you’re starving?” Axl teased, swiping at his damp eyes. “Am I beginning to look good enough to eat?”

Slash shook his head, and looked away, overwhelmed by his feelings for this man.  “You’re fucking _amazing_ , you know that?”

And maybe, just _maybe_ , Axl was starting to believe.

“How long till you can fuck me again?” He squirmed a bit, feeling the flare of heat in his stomach.

“Now, whenever, always.”

Axl considered that a pretty good answer.

\-------------------------------------------

“Where’d you get it?” The simple ivory pendant of the necklace reflected small slivers of light, held the attention of everyone in the room.

Duff gulped, snatching his gaze away from it quickly. “Axl...”

“Axl? Axl _gave_ this to you?” Izzy sounded a bit hurt; he looked away from the ivory claw and enclosed it in his palm, squeezed till he was sure it left a mark on his skin.

“No, he more or less threw it at me in a rage.” He wasn’t sure why he had brought it up, why he had burrowed through his most treasured belongings and handed it over to Izzy without context. “Proof you were gone, I guess?” That was probably cruel; Duff was too well-fucked to care. They could hear Steven singing some god-awful song in the shower—the bassist chuckled a bit, the kid had been on cloud nine all day.

“Mikey...” Izzy choked, opening his palm and glancing at the necklace and quickly looking away again. A bit of it was missing, and he had a very good idea where it was. “This... do you want it?”

Green eyes considered him, “Do you want me to have it?” He didn’t sound jealous, just a bit curious. “Doesn’t this belong to Axl?”

“I’m almost certain he already got what he wanted from it.” Izzy smiled, “do you want it?” _‘Does it mean anything to you?’_ is what he wanted to ask.

“So what, you pass it to me after Axl has used it?” Duff queried, trying for calm and missing it by a mile.

The brunette sighed, running a hand through his hair, how could he explain this in a way that made an ounce of sense? “ _No_. Axl took what was important to him from it, and he kept it—“ _I hope_ “—now, is this in any way important to _you_? I think this is, based on where you kept it. Now, if it is, I’ll give it to you—if it’s not, it has lost its entire purpose. So I’ll toss it.”

Duff huffed, “You’re such a hippie. Pass it back to me.” Izzy held it out to him and the blond grasped it, but Izzy wouldn’t let it go.

“Let’s enchant it again.” And how the fuck is Duff supposed to say no to that when Izzy’s eyes are all but _glowing_ at him, face completely serious. _Oh God, A gypsy, of all the people I could fall for—a **gypsy** and a fucking hyperactive bowl of sunshine._ “Come on Steven.”

The lanky blond had no idea when the other man had made it out of the shower, but suddenly he was there, on the bed with heat radiating from his skin, smelling of his coconut body wash. “What are we doing?”

“We’re giving my charm its magic back.” He commented casually.  Duff almost choked when Steven nodded like this all made perfect sense, had everyone boarded the crazy train at some point _without_ him?

“Oh ok, but how?” Steven asked, looking from Izzy to Duff. “Blood of a virgin? Because if that’s it, we’re screwed.”

“Not for _this one_ , no.” Izzy grinned even wider, eyes _dancing_ with that mesmerizing energy. “We kiss, or make love—but I’m gonna assume we’re all too tired for that. Mix auras in some way, come on grab it.” Steven’s calloused hands joined the mix, and they all sat there, in the shadowy room, staring at each other—waiting, air lit with something unexplainable, barely breathing. _God, this is ridiculous, but it makes perfect sense._ Duff’s mind was getting into this all too easily.

No one said anything for a while, and then Izzy was leaning towards Steven who moved forward in return. Then their tongues were sliding perfectly together, and the bassist, for the hundredth time could only watch and wonder how exactly it had all worked out this way.  Then Steven pulled away and turned towards him, eyes heavy but oh-so radiant, his lips were on Duff’s before he had a chance to process anything. He fancied he could taste Izzy somewhere on Steven’s tongue, made a little breathy sound when suddenly the brunette was there, hair brushing against his cheek, scent enveloping him. Sure enough, his lips were there too and all three of them were kissing. Choked little gasps and sighs of happiness mingling, fingers still linked together, and for a second Duff swore he could feel _something_. Something in the addicting slide of their tongues, in the racing thuds of their hearts. Swore he could feel all three of them coming together, balancing each other out somehow. A strange energy, like the indescribable aura that Izzy always carried, warm, whole, _caring_ (sometimes freezing cold if he allowed it to be). Someone’s fingers were in his hair and a hand was stroking his cheek, he hummed, utterly content. They drifted apart at similar times, just sitting there, chests rising and falling in perfect sync, vision a bit fuzzy around the edges.

He was almost slurring his words, so out of it he was unsure exactly what day it was “What was _that_?”

“It’s enchanted again.” Izzy stated simply, sounded oh-so proud of himself that Duff felt the sappy smile spread on his face. All three of them glanced down at the necklace, that felt almost warm to the touch, seemed to almost glow in their fingers. The brunette smile, heart thudding in his chest. He had to tell Axl, he just _had_ to tell Axl about this—he found auras he _liked_.

The blond snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned. _Oh God, oh shitfuck, we voodoo’d a necklace, my mom’s Catholic; she’d be so fucking **pissed**._

“It looks so _happy_.” Steven chirped, resting his head on Izzy’s shoulder. _Fuck, this is the happiest I’ve been for the past week._

“Am I seeing things?” The bassist didn’t exactly _want_ to be the skeptical asshole, but come on; these past couple of days felt almost unreal. _Maybe I’m dead and this is Valhalla._

“You’re _not_ dead and this is _not_ Valhalla.” Izzy huffed, amusement permeating from his tone. “Duff, we’re not Norse, nor are we warriors. We wouldn’t fucking make it in.”

_Oh God, he could read minds too. Oh God... Oh God... OH GOD, I’m FUCKING A TELEPATH, MOM WOULD HAVE A HEART ATTACK._

“No, I can’t read minds. You just said that Valhalla bit out loud.” Steven erupted into laughter, earning a deadly glare form a blushing Duff. He brain always got stupid around Izzy, it’s no fault of his. “And I could tell by how pale you were getting you were considering I’m some sort of telepath. Well I read _auras_ , not _minds_.”

The blond rolled his eyes, _the nerve of that_ _sassy little bitch._

“Who keeps the necklace?” Duff asked, voice shaking. “I can’t put it back in there... it’s too...” _special_ now.

Steven smiled in understanding. “I can’t keep anything, I _always_ lose shit.” Speaking of which, where _were_ his drumsticks?

“I can wear it.” Izzy suggested almost shyly, “I like the auras. And it fits perfectly with my other charms.”

The drummer pointed at his various necklaces “What are those ones for?”

“Luck, protection, one is from my mom.” He said, trailing a finger across his various pieces of jewelry. “Do... do _you_ want me to wear it?” He felt shy and jittery, like the time he asked Axl to the prom—they knew Axl couldn’t afford such luxuries ( _Axl said yes anyway_ ) but they could pretend, if for only a little while. And they had their own prom, with a few of his mom’s old records, their basement and some candles, they danced the night away.

Duff and Steven shared a glance. “Fuck yeah” they said in unison, sporting similar grins of glee.

“Who wants to...?” Izzy flushed, and it was such a rare sight that Duff just had to lean over and gently kiss those flaming cheeks. The brunette huffed a trembling little laugh.

“I’ll do it.” Izzy carefully handed him the necklace and turned away, pulling his hair up in a makeshift ponytail. The whole room held its breath when Duff finally closes the clasp of the necklace around Duff’s neck with trembling hands.

There was a sharp intake of breath when Izzy finally turned to face them, the simple leather band stark against his skin, the ivory claw resting perfectly between his collar bones.

Izzy pressed a reverent finger to it, “It’s... I like it. Do you?” This was so important to him, it’s been a while. A long while since he liked an aura (or two) this much (the aura of someone other than Axl), his fingers tingled and he couldn’t suppress the excited little giggle that forced its way past his lips.

“ _That’s us.”_ The drummer stated, almost vibrating with energy. And yeah, that did make sense.

Duff’s hand found his and _squeezed_ “Fuck yeah.” Unison, once again.

And then they were collapsing together unto the sheets that smelled like _them_ , laughing loud enough to piss off their grumpy neighbors. Fancied they could laugh till the walls trembled and fell, unable to hold their joy anymore.

And then all of LA would know that’s _**us**_.

\------------------------------

Almost ten fucking calls to the hospital later over the course of two days and Axl is so fed up he could burst. The receptionist was used to his shit now, she sounded as tired of Sharon as Axl was.

“She dead yet?” He grunted, he was having lunch outside with Amy and Slash after a day of shopping. He was finally able to convince Amy to let him but her some clothes, or well... anything she wanted.

“Good morning, Mr. Rose” She greeted, voice dripping sarcasm. “Your mother is still kicking and giving every single person on staff a hard time.”

“Pull the plug, save the world.” Amy shot him a scandalized look, he gestured _what? Let’s not pretend I didn’t come here for a funeral._

“We really can’t, someone’s paying for it.” She sounded genuinely disappointed.

 _Me too lady_.

“Then they wouldn’t have to pay for it anymore.” He pointed out, waving his breadstick around. Slash and Amy are sharing looks of utter amusement at his antics.

She sighed, “Mr. Rose...”

“Fine, fine fine _fine_. You’d think people would appreciate my advice.” He ended the call when the lady started laughing in his ear. “She lives.”

“Axl...” Amy begun, chewing happily on her food. “I know mother wasn’t exactly the best person, but she’s still mom, ya know?”

“I know, I know.” He groaned, watching clueless people walk past in the scorching hot sun. “But she’s suffering you know, always in pain, hooked up to a hundred and one machines. She told me herself, she just wants to die.” Slash noticed he was making that face again, the face he made when he was thinking of a situation he couldn’t change—one that he wished wholeheartedly that he could. “I just wish it wasn’t this way, she was ok at one point ya know? When we were really young, but... she just gave up...”

Amy swallowed and lowered her fork, she suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. “She tried sometimes; remember that Christmas you got that toy gun? You wouldn’t put the damn thing down, almost took my eye out with it.”

“It was the best time I can remember,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “We were too young for Stephen to lay hands on us, Grandma was still alive, and _that_ would lead to some questions from her. Even if no one cared to investigate any further. It’s a small town, see no evil, hear no evil is practically the motto here.”

Slash looked away, and Axl knew he would never be okay with that, with Stephen ever being able to hurt them. “But that’s in the past now. Doesn’t matter.” Amy smiled, “What’s important is I have _three_ new dresses.”

“And they’re all fucking white and blue, what’s up with you sailor?”

“I like what I like.” She pouted, taking an angry sip of her drink and almost choking on it. Slash _soooo_ did not smother a laugh with his hand. Amy pretended not to hear.

Axl guffawed “And what you like _sucks_.”

“If this wasn’t a fancy hotel, I’d toss all my breadsticks at your head.” She whispered, “ _All_ the breadsticks. The _breadsticks,_ Axe.”

The guitarist was laughing silently now, large shoulders shaking. Amy and Axl reminded him so much of Ash and himself it was uncanny—the only difference was they’d both would be fighting by now.

“You? You would waste food?” Axl scoffed, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed behind his head. “Don’t make me laugh, you eat enough to feed a small village, there’s nothing on your plate to _throw_.”

Amy gasped, cheeks flushing “Slash, hit him for me.” She nudged Slash’s shoulder with her own. “Quickly, no one will notice.”

“I’m not involved in this.” He cleared his throat and looked away.

“No, Slash, smack _her_ o’er the head.”

“He wouldn’t hit _me_ ; _you’re_ the brat with no fashion sense.” Blue and white was a perfect combination, and she would wear everything in those colors if she damn well pleased.

“My fashion sense is _perfect,_ thank you.” He flipped a lock of hair from his face with a little _humph_.

 _Oh God, oh God, keep it together Slash, you can do it._ They were having lunch outside, but there were people out here too, all sipping tea with their pinkies extended. The guitarist fidgeted in his chair, face darkening further, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep his laughter in.

“Yeah, says the one wearing pants tight enough to fit _me_ and fucking _cowboy_ _boots_.”

The redhead scowled as Slash buried his hand in his face with a snort. “My pants are perfectly fine _and_ fashionable, little miss country.”

Amy’s grin widened, “Yeah, for a seventeen year old girl maybe.”

Slash stumbled away, mumbling something about using the bathroom. Yeah, as soon as he was in a cubicle he lost it completely. Sides aching with the force of his laughter—when he returned to the table, both siblings were glaring at him with shared looks of annoyance.

“What?” He asked, blinking innocently.

“You think this is funny?” Axl asked, even as his whole façade trembled, laughter threatening to spill out.

“ _Hilarious_ , actually.”

Amy allowed herself to be dragged all over town (and even out of it), skipping along gleefully. There were so many places she had never seen before, when was the last time she had cotton candy? Or played mini golf, by the time evening fell she was reluctant to go home, and suspected somehow this was a part of Axl’s plan.

Her suspicions were more or less confirmed when, without further ado, Axl approached her bluntly. “Come back to LA with me, you don’t need to go home.” They were parked across the street from the farm, both perched on the hood of the car, enjoying the night air. Slash hadn’t ventured outside, was texting Myles about something important he claimed.

“No.” She replied just as bluntly, staring off into nothing. The cicadas were beginning to sing, she should get inside. “You know I can’t do that.”

“And just _why_ the fuck not?” was Axl’s cutting retort, he didn’t fucking get any of this shit at all. “Don’t think I haven’t picked up on what he does to you, what he _still_ does to you. You come with me Ames and I’ll keep you good n’ safe, you can have all the sailor dresses you want.”

She knew this conversation was coming; he had tried to convince her the first time around too, going as far as to pack her a bag. “What about daddy huh?” Axl scoffed under his breath but she soldiered on, “What about Tammy? Who’s gonna take care of her? Stu can’t do it, he has to work all day—he aint got no good place to leave her.”

“Bring her with ya, then!” He cried, standing to pace before the car. He didn’t like getting mad at Amy, but she was pushing all his fucking buttons at the moment. “She loves you, she’ll get used to it. She’s a smart kid; the city will be one big adventure for her. I’m not rich or anything, but I can give you more than that nutcase has been giving you.” He sighed, pausing to stare at Amy, “I’m not there yet, but I’m getting there. Soon I’ll be able to take care of all of you. Just trust me; I’m not leaving you here.” _Not again_.

“Then you’re not leaving.” She maintained stubbornly, Axl’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Because I _can’t_. I aint got no _other_ Pa, Axe. He’s just an old man, I can’t leave him. My mum’s dead already, Stu aint got no one to help him out, I aint got no fucking certification, didn’t even finish high school, can’t get no good job. Not everyone’s smart or special like you are, Axl! All I have is this fuckin’ town and I wouldn’t survive a day anywhere else, it’s all I _know_.”

 _There_ , she finally said it. And boy was that the wrong thing to say,

“Well you can learn, can’t ya?” the redhead growled deep in his throat. “What the fuck was that supposed to mean, _no other Pa?_ I don’t care if he’s not my dad and I don’t care if he’s yours, he can’t do that shit! You can’t just sit here and fucking let him. Stu will figure something out, shit I didn’t finish school either, I’m not certified to do shit.” He gripped her arm, twisting it cruelly, “You think I’m _special_? Think running away to the big city at 17 and not winding up in some ditch is _because I’m_ _special_? Fucking rich, you don’t know shit I had to do to fucking stay alive out there, in here, even. But it’s worth it, because even if this is all you know, it aint right—it’s fucked up—so don’t sit here and take it. You gotta change it yourself, or you’ll fucking _die_ here.”

Panting, she wrenched her hand away, fear pumping through her veins. _She couldn’t leave! Why couldn’t he see that?_ “Fucking easy for you to say Axl, I’m not like _you_. I aint street smart, I’m a fucking church girl who never been further than down the road to the grocers till now—it aint nobody’s fault my life is fucked up. All those things you did to survive, you think I could do them? You think I could make it? Answer me, honestly!” He eyes were wide in the dark, brimming with tears, chest rising and falling beneath her little dress.

Axl looked away, “No... No you wouldn’t. And that’s the fucking point, I’m gonna make sure you _never_ have to do the shit I’ve done. You’ve got someone to look out for ya kid, which is more than I ever had. Just come with me Amy, I’ll set you up with a job, Mich would _love_ you, you’re innocent, she’s protective—it all works out. You make enough money and you can move out in no time.” He was rambling now, trying to convince her, knowing deep within himself that he had lost her from the get go. “Duff’s my flat mate and he’s a real sweetheart, you’d like him. And best of all you’ll be away from _fucking_ _Stephen_.”

And that was really what this was about wasn’t it?

Amy flinched, and said in the smallest voice that chilled him to the core. “I _don’t_ wanna be away from my daddy Axl, I _don’t_.”

He looked on her in shock, he had read something about people like this, but he never expected Amy to act in this manner. “No...”

“I don’t!” She insisted, stamping her foot in a childlike manner, looking for all the world like the little daddy’s girl she used to be (and apparently still was). “He only punishes me when I’m bad, and there’s not much I can do about that except be better.” He was an absolute monster, but he was her _father_. Axl would never understand that, he wasn’t as _attached_ as she was.

This wasn’t happening, he wasn’t gonna lose her to this place.

“You wanna stay with _daddy_ , huh?” He laughed, a bitter unfriendly sound. Amy recoiled, pressing against the cold metal of the car. “Daddy? The same daddy who made you walk funny for a week? The daddy that left you all bruised up so the girls at school wouldn’t talk to you? The same daddy who makes you flinch away from almost every male, big or small, who has tried to talk to you today? Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re scared of him; you’re terrified even when he’s not there. He’s got yer mind fucked up and you don’t even realize it.” Amy was full on sobbing now, rubbing at her stinging eyes. Axl watched her, feeling completely empty, he had failed. “ _Fuck_ , this is _my_ fault; I shouldn’t have left you in the first place. I should have let Izzy fucking gut him that night, fuck, FUCK!” He yelled it at the black skies, at anyone who would listen. He couldn’t even save her, so what was the point in saving himself?

“Fuck you! Fuck you Axl!” She screamed, dogs started barking somewhere in the distance. “You think I don’t know? I _know_ I’m fucked up, just like _you_ are fucked up, BUT NEITHER OF US KNOW WHAT THE FUCK TO _DO_ ABOUT IT!” Then she’s running across the street without even looking, stumbling on a crack in the driveway and almost falling. Her entire being was screaming for her to run in the other direction, she _wanted_ to go back with Axl and Slash; she _wanted_ Sarah to plait her hair again oh so badly and ramble on about hot lead singers like every other teen girl. She _wanted_ to try on her dresses where Axl could see and make fun of her. She _wanted_ to be normal, not fucked up and confused. She _wanted_ to like boys her age too, not flinch away from them.

_Want._

_Want._

_Want._

But she was programmed to run home, even if that was the one place she should be running from. Slash pulled his earphones out when he saw Axl dashing across the street after her, grabbing at the collar of her dress. _When the fuck had this happened?_

 “Amy, AMY! Don’t fucking go in there, ya hear?!” he bellowed, hating himself for not realizing she would try to run at some point.

But she was already banging on the door and screaming for Daddy, “open up, Daddy! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I won’t leave again!” There was no sound. Axl finally caught up to her and wrapped his arms around her shaking form, she writhed and kicked. “DADDY! Let me in! I won’t be bad no more!”

The lights came on next door, and their neighbor Mrs. Robinson peered out, she was a nice old lady, a friend of Axl’s grandma. Things all went downhill when their Grandma died; she wasn’t there to put the fear of God into Stephen and to be Sharon’s backbone.

“Amy, Amy is that you?” Mrs. Robinson cried, “your daddy’s at the church now sweetie, late service remember?” The dark little lady’s eyes roamed over the scene, Slash was a few steps behind Axl wondering just what the fuck to do in this situation. Amy was still struggling weakly in Axl’s grasp and crying and Axl, well Axl looked gutted.

“Thanks Mrs. R,” he croaked. “We’ll check back later.”

“Axl? Axl is that you? My word, you’ve grown!” She adjusted her glasses, face lighting up when they confirmed it was indeed the young man. “Come over for cookies if ya have the time, ya hear? I always have a batch special for you.”

Axl wanted to laugh at the whole thing, at how normal that sounded, at how much he craved normal at this moment. “Ok, Ok I will. Nice to see you M’aam, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

They managed to get a sobbing Amy into the car, carefully locking the doors (child safety locks did come in handy) because Axl didn’t believe for a second that she wouldn’t throw herself from the moving vehicle. Slash wanted to ask what had happened, but he figured Axl would tell all in due time. The ride back to the hotel was stifling; Amy was shivering in the back seat and sniffling ever so often, while Axl was just gone. Distant, back in his own head, wondering where he went wrong.

By the time they got back to the hotel, Amy had regained some of her composure and was asking for Sarah.

“Sarah?” Slash asked, confused. “I’m not sure where she stays, Amy.”

“In the hotel.” She replied, cheeks pinking. “Top floor.”

“Why would you want Sarah?” Axl snapped, a little hurt. “It’s after hours, she’s not working.”

“I just want... to—” Amy blushed even harder when both men raised their brows at her, “I want her to do—” _my hair, it’s soothing, it calms me, it makes me feel normal._ She couldn’t find the words to tell him that, so she looked away.

“Ok, ok, no details.” Axl teased, expression softening. “Jeez, have a little crush don’t you?”

Amy didn’t have the energy to dispute it. “I just want her to braid my hair.” She said quietly, lashes fluttering. “Shut up, both of you.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” Slash murmured, earning a weak little chuckle from the girl. “Well... ok, you know the way right?” This was their floor, “as long as you’re ok.”

“I am, thanks guys.” She kept her eyes glued to the floor, clutching her shopping bags tight in her grasp. “Oh Axl—Axe I’m _so_ fucking sor—”

The doors closed, but not before she saw Axl’s wan smile.

 _That’s good, he doesn’t hate me_ , she leaned against the walls of the elevator and watched the numbers light up. She could pretend to be normal for a while longer.

Back in their room, Axl was exhausted and aching in places he hadn’t previously considered. “Oh fuck me, I feel like I’m going to keel over.” Then Slash was behind him, curling an arm around his chest. Axl sighed and leaned back, resting his head on Slash’s shoulder.

“Want me to take care of you?” He purred.

Axl had no idea what that meant but conceded nonetheless, apparently it was a hot bath where he was pampered within an inch of his life. Slash washed his hair, pulling pleased little sighs from his lips.

“This is nice,” he slurred when Slash finally got around to drying him off (literally carried him out of the bathroom bridal style). “A guy could get used to this.” His eyes were barely open now, he yawned and stretched languidly. “Let’s have sexy time.”

The guitarist laughed, “Babe, you’re half asleep.”

“Then fuck me the rest of the way to sleep.” He reasoned, rolling unto his stomach and exposing his bare ass. “Come on, I look lovely and smell even better.”

“Tempting,” he growled, trailing a large hand up to those pale cheeks, squeezing, much to Axl’s delight. “But I’m sure...”

He was saying some other things, Axl was sure, but all he could make out was his soothing touches and the deep rumble of his voice before he was drifting off with a smile on his face.

\-------------------------------

“So I’ll meet you at the airport in a few hours? The snakes miss you.” James was asking for about the hundredth time, but he couldn’t help himself, he _missed_ them. The house was too quiet with them gone. “Erm... you should prepare for some... _interference_.” 

“What does that mean?” Slash asked as he watched the bagboy load their luggage into the trunk. “James, I heard that last line man—what does that mean?”

“That you should expect interference.” He replied, tone casual. “How’s the ginger?”

“Pissy, the pissiest I’ve seen him in a while.” Axl was glaring at the world from the passenger seat, face a moue of disapproval. “But I’m guessing that has something to do with an even pissier sibling in the back seat.” If Axl was in a bitchy mood, Slash wasn’t sure what word he could use to describe Amy.”

“Huh, are you sure you’ll be ok?” He moved into the sitting room, admiring the view of the garden. “Being enclosed in such a small space with them _both_?”

“I’m actually unsure of what the outcome will be.” Slash mumbled, chewing on the side of his thumb. “Listen we gotta go, you can explain that statement later. See ya soon, J.”

“Bye bye, have a nice flight.” And with that he was gone, sounding strangely guilty to Slash’s ears. What was up with that?

“Woah Woah, Step away from the car, young man.” Sarah called, strolling out of the lobby, actually wearing a suit “I’m calling in my favor.”

“You’re wearing clothes?” Slash pointed out, “A skirt suit? Hilarious.”

“Yeah yeah, dad required it for today.” She shoved stray locks of hair out of her face. “Laugh it up.”

“It actually looks nice.” Amy called, finally using her words. Blushing up a storm when both their eyes landed on her. She wondered if it’d be rude to put the window up and hide.

“Hey, thanks Amy.” Sarah beamed, “man I felt dumb in this thing, but now, not so much.” She waved a Polaroid camera around, “let’s get a picture together before you leave me forever, baby.”

“You two are _sickening_.” Axl drawled, pulling off his sunglasses to glare pointedly Sarah. “No kissing or inappropriate touching please.” Slash snickered, feeling a slight pang of sympathy for Amy who was so painfully shy around new people.

Amy almost tripped while getting out of the car, turning to glare at Axl, face flaming. “Shut up! Don’t you dare!”

Sarah just laughed and tugged on her hand, “Ok, ok. I won’t, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Throwing a casual arm around Amy’s shoulder, she held the camera a distance away and cooed, “Smile Ames.” Before snapping a quick shot. She waited for the picture to slip out before handing it to Amy with a small smile, “Shake it.”

“Now for you two,” She rubbed her hands together, cackling. “Get out of the car princess Axl; you’re _not_ exempt from this.” The redhead sighed, but complied nonetheless.

“What now?”

“Now, we have a mini photo shoot.” And that’s more or less what it was; she took pictures of Slash, then Axl, then both of them. She yanked a clueless Amy into the mix and then it was all four of them, laughing gleefully and cracking jokes. Sure people stared, but when has that ever stopped anyone.

“This one’s my favorite; sign it, both of you.” In this one, Axl was clinging to Slash, laughing at something he had said, hand tossed around Amy’s shoulders—who for once appeared at ease. “For when you’re rich and famous. Ahhh and the last one of the cute couple.” She handed Axl one with just him and Slash, and he smiled a little. They looked damn good together, if he did say so himself.

“Send me copies.”

“I promise I will.”

Slash signed, then Axl, then Amy (after Sarah gave her a little nudge) and soon they were all embracing and exchanging goodbyes.

“I will miss you and your strange requests and noisy sex.” Sarah said, clutching her photographs as she watched them all get back into the car. “Slash, keep Axl out of trouble and Amy please call me when you can.”

“I will!” She cried, eyes brimming with tears. She _wanted_ to stay, hell; she would’ve stayed forever if she could. “As soon as I get home.”

Axl waited till they drove off before asking, “Ohoo, you got her fucking numberrrrr? You move fast, huh?” Slash very carefully did not laugh, and he deserved applause for that.

“How else am I supposed to stay in touch, Axl?”

“What did you two _do_ last night?”

“Oh,” she wrinkled her nose as she played with her hair. “She braided my hai—”

“AHA! I knew that was code for sex.”

She almost choked, “Axl... no it—she—we! No it isn’t she just braided my hair.”

“And we’re not saying she didn’t, I’m sure she did _other_ stuff too.” Slash added, grinning cheekily and high-fiving Axl.

Amy could strangle them both; she really could if given the chance.

When they pulled up to their house, it was still deathly quiet. It was early enough for Stephen to be home, he wouldn’t have left for service yet. Amy was shaking, but trying her best to appear confident, this was fine, she was used to this, she could manage this.

Could she? Even after seeing what life would be like without having to deal with this shit?

Axl hesitated at the door, a bit uneasy. “Amy... Amy are you sure?” he asked, blocking her path, “Cause it’s nothing if you do wanna go, I’ll buy you a ticket myself. We can just grab some clothes and go.”

She wasn’t sure. Amy looked around her home, the one she’d known for practically all her life and sighed. “Axl, I can’t leave man. Maybe... maybe later, but not right now, ya know? Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer later.”

He nodded, he was fuming on the inside, but it was only fair she got to make her own choices, even if they sounded like complete shit to him. “Ok, ok I’ll give you that. But you better fucking call me, you call me or I’m gonna just show up in a year and snatch you away from this place. No questions asked.”

That didn’t sound much like a threat, more like a promise. Amy smiled, “Yeah yeah, I can handle myself. I’ll call you... and I’ll try not to just lie around and take all this shit all the time.” It was the best she could do, it didn’t exactly put him at ease, but he’d have to take it.

“Whatever, but I’m coming in with you.” He muttered, watching her open the front door with rising apprehension. The house was more or less the same way they left it, the roses were still in the centre of the table (but they were all withered) and Axl felt the urge to disregard whatever Amy said and drag her all the way to the airport with them. The fluttering of a drape in the breeze caused them to start, whipping around in unison to stare at the harmless bit of fabric. “Where the fuck is he?”

They headed towards the living room, moving as slowly as possible, feeling like little children sneaking in after a party. Stephen was there, snoozing in his favorite chair, the lasagna wasn’t there anymore, not the broken shards of glass either. The shiny metal of his hunting rifle reflected a sliver of light, demanding their attention; it was there leaned across his legs, signaling a whole world of danger.

“Amy,” Axl whispered, slipping his hand into hers. “Amy, you fucking listen to me, go upstairs, grab some clothes, you’re not staying here.”

“But—” she protested, trying to explain that this was her father, this was just his natural behavior. They scared him pretty bad last time, and he was just trying to be safe.

Axl tightened his grip, voice low and deadly. “You fucking listen to me right now, go grab some clothes and get into my car. You're seventeen, this isn’t a fucking request.”

She gulped, shaken up by his tone and headed for the stairs, almost on autopilot. Axl listened to her retreat, never taking his eyes of Stephen, he wasn’t sleeping and he knew it.

“You’re trying to take her from me, boy?”

 _Boy_. He spat the title like it was poison, with so much hatred that Axl felt afraid for a bit.

“You’re trying to kill her, Reverend?” He taunted, shifting his weight from foot to foot, ready for anything, hell, ready to take a bullet for Amy if necessary. “Sitting there with a rifle, feigning sleep, come on. Leave the kid alone.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, boy.”

“My name,” he breathed, “is William, most people call me Axl now, and I’m not a fucking boy.”

“You can’t take her from me ya know.” He said calmly, bones creaking as he sat up, eyes distant and wide. “I’m not making her leave.”

“And I’m not about to make you hurt her.” He snapped, furious now. Who the fuck did this man think he is? “So guess what, she comes with me.”

“Daddy?” Amy clutched a little duffle of clothes deathly tight. “Daddy, are you ok? Yer eye ok?”

“Sweetheart, you’re home.” He said, voice coated in faux concern. “I was so worried.”

 _Yeah, worried she had wised up and left,_ Axl though bitterly, watching the exchange. He knew he couldn’t do shit about this. He knew.

“I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry.” Her voice wavered, “It’s ok, Axl took me to a hotel, just for a while, he was scared to leave me here. But I’m back—” She dropped her belongings, “I’m not leaving.”

Axl groaned, “Amy, get your stuff and get outside.”

“I won’t.” She said, stumbling to Stephen as if in some trance, “I can’t. Not now.”

“Sweetie, you know you’re safe here, with me.” The reverend smiled, slow and sweet. “I’m all you’ve got; he can’t protect you, from the horrors out there. God said, you should obey your parents. I’m asking you to stay.”

Amy nodded, a jerky movement. “Yeah... yeah.”

Axl knew he had lost, felt any hope he had built up disperse, “If this is what you want...”

“Yeah.” Amy said and Stephen leered at Axl, he had won this small thing, even if he had lost the fight before. The angels hadn’t gone quiet after all, he still got it.

“Fine.” He spat, he hated to say it. He knew when he had been beat, “But you better call me daily, or I’ll come back and it won’t be pretty. Bye Amy, have a nice life.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Once on the porch, she seemed to snap out of her trance, eyes frantic and terrified. “Listen, he’s my legal guardian, I can’t fucking leave. I’m still a minor. You’d get into a shit ton of trouble, but I’m only a few months off, so come back for me Axl—promise you’ll come back.”

The redhead heaved a sigh of relief, good, he hadn’t lost her. “Shit kid, almost had me convinced in there. I will, I’m only giving you a few months, call me. You better keep your shit packed, cause I’m getting you outta here. Be sure to give Stu a heads up.”

She hugged him, clutching at his shirt frantically. “Just promise, promise me.”

“I promise kiddo, I do.” He’d make sure of it, it’d be on his mind daily as of now. “And make sure you fucking call, you’ve got my number now. You tell me if _anything_ happens, I’m not kidding.”

“Ok... I will, I’m _scared_ Ax.”

“I know, I am too.” He reluctantly pulled away, knowing he’d have to go now. “I love you Spacebrain, stay safe.” She nodded when words failed her, watching him walk away for the second time in her life—through the front door this time, he was a whole lot different.

He hesitated at the car, turning to look at her, feeling something clawing at his chest when he saw her standing there, hair still braided all pretty, eyes red-rimmed and body shaking. How could he leave her like this? But she would hold out till a few months, she had to—she was his sister after all, she had a fucking backbone.

“I’m coming back for you!” He screamed, making sure every living being heard it, he wasn’t leaving her forever. Just for a while, and when he came back to this shitty little town, he’d take something extra from it.

\----------------------------

LA welcomed them back in a way they had never seen before, well Slash had—Axl hadn’t.

“So this was the fucking interference you were talking about?” Slash grunted, trying to make his way through the sea of reporters without punching anybody. Axl was in awe, the noise, the lights—is this what stardom was like?

“Er... well, remember your flight to Indiana? When some kid got pictures? Well... yeah, they went viral so...” James was forging ahead of them, shouting over the din and trying his best to make a path to the car. “I did not expect this much interference.”

**“Slash! Slash! Does this mean you’re done working with Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators?”**

**“Slash! Slash! Are you a couple? What’s his name?”**

**“Slash! Over here, what did you do in Indiana?”**

**“Slash! Any word on that new album?”**

Slash’s head was spinning; he really couldn’t deal with this sometimes. But he kept his smile firmly in place and his grasp tight on Axl’s arm.

“What’s your name kid? Hey!” The man makes a wild grab for Axl.

“It’s Axl fucking Rose!” The redhead snapped, glaring at the douchebag who was trying to yank him away from Slash. “And you’d better let go of my arm, man.”

The guitarist roared out a laugh, pulling Axl closer to him. “Jesus kid, you don’t play around do you?” And thankfully the car is right up ahead, they’re in the car unharmed by some miracle and the guitarist is thanking God for tinted windows. “Fucking hell, man.”

“Hey Alfred!” Axl said, rubbing his wrists. “Good to see ya, did you make scones while we were gone?”

“At least three batches.” James smiled at him, “Welcome home, sorry about the... crowd.”

“Naw, Its cool.” He pressed himself against the other door, peering through the tinted windows. “It was kinda funny.”

“I know you’re tired and you just wanna get home and nap,” Slash said, “but I can’t take you home, cause they’ll follow us. Sorry, kid.”

“Hey, I got an idea.” He grinned cheekily, revealing his plans. “See, if we lead them to Michelle, that’s like, free publicity—and we can just perform while the hype is high. Win-win.”

“He’s making sense.” The butler commented and he’s throwing the vehicle into gear and pulling away slowly enough for them to follow.

“Aren’t you tired?” Slash murmured, lying across Axl’s lap. God, the flight was exhausting. All he wanted was his bed and his snakes and a hot cuppa and maybe a proper fuck.

“Not nearly tired enough.” He watched his city speed by, looking back every now and then to check if they were being followed—they certainly were. “This is so fucking fun.” Truth be told, he was just high on adrenaline right now, he’d probably collapse after the show.

They were trailed all the way to Mich’s, much to Axl’s glee. They were barely out of the car for a minute before the reporters were there again, shouting questions and trying to get their attention.

**“Slash? Here to visit an old friend?”**

**“So how did you two meet?”**

The redhead smiled sweetly at the hungry reporters, “funny story, we met right here. We just stopped by to prepare for our performance tonight, ya know, the one at 10?” Slash snorted at that, real subtle Ax. “Who knows what shit you’ll find out if you show.” And then he was grabbing Slash’s hand and dragging him inside—ignoring the din behind him. None of the reporters dared to attempt getting pass the bouncer, John was too fucking intimidating, he always had a smile for Axl though, so he counted it as a win.

Michelle was sauntering about looking lovely as usual, her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening and closing. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged back from the dead.” Axl laughed as she embraced him, “We missed ya kid, and the boys near most killed each other while you were gone.”

“What?” Axl croaked, but Michelle was moving on to Slash.

She leaned forward conspirationally “Thanks for bringing him back for me, I owe you.” The guitarist just smiled and rolled his eyes. “And yes, Duff didn’t tell you about their little fight?”

Axl frowned; Duff hadn’t told him anything, except a little warning about Izzy coming back. Come to think of it, he sounded odd over the phone earlier. “No... That he did not, where are they anyway?”

“Upstairs,” she waved an arm in that direction, “don’t think I don’t notice the mess you’ve left at my doorstep.”

The redhead is already halfway up the stairs and grinning like a maniac, “You’re welcome, free publicity for the show tonight!”

Her throaty laughter rang out over the noise, “You’re something else kid.”

\---

Duff was pacing like a madman, under the watch of two unimpressed pairs of eyes. “Well what exactly do you want me to tell him?” He cried, desperate for some understanding here. “I’m fucking your ex-boyfriend?” The door chose that exact moment to swing in and there stood Axl, a little tired, but wide-eyed and excited nonetheless.

“Wow... that’s one way to find out.” Axl said, gaze flitting to the frozen faces in the room and lingering on Izzy. “Ok. Hey guys, I’m back.”

“Axl...” Duff begun, trailing off awkwardly because just what the fuck was he to say here? “We need to talk.”

“No shit. Well, I’m not involved in this.” Steven snapped, grabbing his drumsticks and heading for the door. “Welcome back, Ax. We missed you.” And then he’s gone, leaving the three men fidgeting in the room.

“Duff, I’ll talk to him...”

“But—“

“You know I’ve been meaning to for a while,” he interjected, hoping he would eventually feel as confident as he sounded. “Go on, it’s fine.”

And suddenly, it’s just them. Axl hadn’t moved from the doorway, he was just standing there, staring at _his_ gypsy and wondering if it would be ok to hug him, wondering just what the fuck was going on. “Hey, Jeff.”

“Axl, come in.” He said, watching the redhead close the door and stand awkwardly in front of him. “Jeez, siddown kid. I don’t bite.”

“We both know you do.” Axl teased on reflex, pausing when he begins realizing that joking like this might no longer be acceptable. He decided to cut straight to the point “So... you’re fucking my best friend.”

“Thought I was your best friend?” Izzy joked weakly, “It’s complicated. I—I didn’t plan for this to happen, and I’m _sorry_.” He pressed a finger to his charm, a thing he was becoming accustomed to as of late, and watched Axl’s eyes make their way to it. “Duff said, you threw it at him? But there’s a piece missing...”

“Yeah... I, yeah— I use it as a book mark in our book.” Axl stared in awe, reaching out a curious hand to touch it. He shivered and smiled a bit when his hand made contact. “Oh my God, it feels so happy.” He cooed, laughing at Izzy’s eye roll. “You—this is you two?”

“Three...” he mumbled sheepishly, blushing when Axl’s eyes widen. _He said, our book, he still calls it that._

He pressed his fingers to the necklace again, heart speeding when a little shock went through his fingers. “OH MY GOD!” _Three auras...fucking three._ “You little _whore_!”

The brunette reddened even further, “It’s not a big—”

“Oh my God, did all three of you fuck?” He yelled, cackling raucously. “This is too good to be true.”

“Oh shut the fuck up Axl.” He snapped, sniffing in disdain.

“Awwww,” He cooed, still fondling the charm “It’s so happy. Do you like them?”

“Yes...”Izzy was bewildered. Shouldn’t Axl be furious? He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes; _of course he isn’t, because he loves me, and will forgive me even when I don’t fucking deserve it_. “Rosie, I’m so fucking sorry. I left you—and I didn’t _know_ , Duff told me—” You tried to kill yourself, and that’s on me.

“Sssh, relax.” Axl whispered, stroking the man’s arm. “Quit freaking out, doesn’t matter what happened, I’m ok now.”

“It’s not ok.” He sobbed, shaking. “Christ, I never thought I would have that effect on you. I thought leaving was for _your own good_. I’m an idiot. I never expected you to turn to...”

“Yeah, me neither.” He said, words simple and honest. “I was angry for a long time after, but, ya know... Maybe it was for the best, look—” He spread his arms and wiggled his brows, “I’m cleaner than Mr. Clean now.”

Izzy choked out a laugh through his tears, “You shouldn’t be joking about this shit.”

“Maybe not, but...” he sighed and leaned forward, “I’m ridiculously happy right now, so we can bitch about this some other time.”

“Mr.Rockstar makes you happy, huh?” And Izzy couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy, because it was his job to make Axl happy, but he’d fail at that.

The redhead flicked Izzy’s nose “He does.” And man, that sounded sappy and silly but it was true. “But that’s not even all; we have a show tonight, ok? And it’s gonna be big, so try not to fuck up.”

“You’re one to talk Mr. Stage fright!” He grumbled watching the color rise in Axl’s cheeks. “You almost pissed yourself at the talent show in eighth grade.”

“Ok, yeah yeah. I was a kid, shut up.” He folded his arms and splays his legs apart—the picture of irritation. “Let’s practice, now. We have only a few hours till the show anyway.”

“Ok, fair enough.”

\--------------------------------

Duff was so confused during practice, he was barely there. He kept nervously glancing from Axl to Izzy (who were perfectly at ease—and that fucking scared him) and then back to Slash, who was slowly warming up to the brunette.

He didn’t talk much, Slash could appreciate that.

Finally, during a quick break, Duff snapped. He shadowed Axl out of the room and confronted him.

“So what, you’re ok with it?”

“Huh?” The redhead paused with a can of cool beer raised to his lips, “ok with your bass? You sound fine man, a little bit off sometimes but—”

The blond growled in frustration, “No, with us? Izzy and I? And Stevie? So what, you’re suddenly over it now?”

“Come on man, It’s me and Izzy, it’s always gonna be—” he crushed the can in irritation. “It’s not like everything’s solved, but he’s happy and you’re happy and I’m twice as happy as you both—so why fight and bitch? It’s always gonna be me and Izzy you know? That’s the way it works, that’s the way it _has_ to work. But he’s really into you two, and that’s fine.”

“I—Axl I didn’t mean _—” to fucking steal your other half._ Duff looked away, shit what was he getting himself into? “I didn’t plan for this...”

“Yeah, cause love is usually planned.” Axl snorted, “Are you happy, man?”

“Yeah...” And it was completely honest as far as he was concerned, fuck, he was so happy it was almost unreal.

The redhead smiled, blue eyes shining with adoration “Then good, that’s it. I’m not cryin’ no more, and that’s fine by me. And I want you to be happy.”

“But—” Duff wanted to scream and break things for how well Axl was taking this, did Slash fuck all his hang-ups away? He didn’t want to be happy at someone else’s expense. He’d never live through the guilt.

“Shut up, you _deserve_ happiness. God, you deserve _all_ the good things.” And Axl was right in his face, throwing his arms around him (with great effort since the fucker was so tall). “I’m so happy for you three sluts.”

 “Oh god, it just all got outta control.”

“That’s what happens when you leave three sluts in a room alone.” He teased, wriggling out of Duff’s grasp and heading for the door. “Come, we have only a few hours left, let’s go rock.”

\--

One hour to the show and everyone has showered and thrown some sort of outfit together and Axl’s little voices decide to make a comeback _. God, what was he doing, thinking he could pull this off, before all these people?_

Michelle was making so much money she barely had space to put it, the bar was almost out of fucking stock, there was not enough space in the club to house this many people. Some reporters were hanging around, a few producers, Myles showed up (even after Slash begged him not to) and was sitting at the very front with a ridiculous grin on his face.

The redhead went downstairs to get a drink at one point, took one look at the crowd and hauled-ass back up the stairs (taking them two at a time). He ran all the way to Mich’s private rooms, slamming the door behind him and fuck this was that dumb talent show all over again. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck._

One hour later Duff was banging on the door, yelling something about ‘stage’ and ‘let’s go’, but Axl wasn’t making sense of it. He huddled in the darkest corner of the room and sat there, shivering, doubting, fearing all that could go wrong. Hating himself for causing all this, for letting everyone down.

“Izzy.” Duff called with mounting panic, “Izzy, please go get Axl. Please, I have a feeling he’s freaking out.” Slash was downstairs with Myles and the reporters, Steven was—well only God knows, and Duff felt he couldn’t tackle this situation.

The brunette glanced up calmly, “Where is he?”

“In the second private room, the door’s locked but I have the key.” He tossed it at Duff, green eyes frantic. “Please, get him, this means everything to him.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

\---

Axl doesn’t know how exactly Izzy got in, but somehow, he’s looming over him, expression unreadable.

“Why are you in here?”

“Cause I fucking get that I can’t do it, ok?” He snapped, infuriated. Stupid, what was I thinking? “So you can laugh it up, you were right.”

“When have I ever laughed at you like this?” He asked, calmly, squatting down to stare Axl in the eyes. “We need you out there, Rose.”

“I... shit Izzy, I can’t—” He could think of almost a million reasons why he couldn’t pull this off, shit what did he know? He was just a small town kid with enough issues to rival Time magazine, what was he doing here?

“This is _us_ , Axl. Our dream, to perform in front of a crowd this big.” Izzy smiled, and his whole face is transformed. “With your voice and my guitar, Duff’s bass and Steven’s rhythm—fuck, let’s not even talk about Slash’s guitar.”

The redhead laughed despite himself, starting a little at the sound. “But Izzy, what if I mess up? Fuck, Stephen would be right, and I don’t know how—this means so much.” Izzy leaned forward till their foreheads were pressed together, till all he could see was that expanse of Blue- grey- green eyes, noses almost touching, breaths mingling.

“We’re not gonna mess up. We never mess up and when we do, it’s art.” He kissed Axl’s nose, “this is us. We know this, we _live_ this. We’ve dreamed this for years and now, it’s ours.”

“Yes...” Axl nodded, all he could hear was his pounding heartbeat, no voices, no doubts. Izzy had always been able to do just this, calm him, motivate him. “Yes, what the fuck am I doing in _here_? Let’s go man!”

He stood up so fast he unbalanced Izzy, knocking the man to the ground. The brunette lay there laughing, staring up at his angel, unable to believe that this was real. They were here, this was about to happen. “Yeah ok, let’s go then.”

\---

The noise was deafening, at first, it was mostly screams for Slash—who of course everyone could recognize—coupled with the cheers of fans who knew the boys. But as the show progressed, it was for each and every person up there.

Axl found that he wasn’t afraid, at all.

It seemed like his earlier panic was a distant dream, he had all the support he needed right here, and it felt damn good to know that they had his back.  So he sung his heart out, not holding back, hitting notes he’s never hit, singing with such passion and emotion that Duff is shocked—keeps glancing over to see if Axl was ok.

Slash couldn’t keep his eyes of Axl and was way past trying to hide it, his movements, his voice, his little smirk—God, this was where he belonged. They meshed so perfectly he was actually cursing himself for wasting so much time on other things when he could have been right here, right where everything was locking into place.

Izzy played as close to Duff as possible, flashing him reassuring smiles, all the while keeping an eye on Axl—it soon became clear that Axl had the whole performing thing down, the crowd was hypnotized, he could spot a few people with their mouths hanging open. He shook his head and laughed, that was the Axl effect, he could do that to a whole town if he pleased (without realizing it)—and he had back then.

And so the night went on, cameras went off, Michelle grooved from the VIP area, Myles stared in absolute shock (Goosebumps covering the expanse of his arms), and producers rubbed their hands greedily together, already plotting schemes to get a hold of this band.

But Axl and Slash were _electric_. He didn’t even realize he was drifting in that direction till he had his hand tossed over his shoulder and his afro tickling his skin. He’s singing Don’t Cry to close the show, and the crowd doesn’t really know the words, but they’re swaying, seriously jamming out.

Slash laughed, filled with pure astonishment. _This is it, this is where I wanna be, always._

After the show, it all got really ridiculous. People were clamoring to get to the boys, actually trying to climb on stage, reporters were shouting, Mich was shouting (because they had a next thing coming if they thought they were gonna wreck her fucking club!), Myles was shouting something about how amazing that shit was to Slash , and Axl was dead tired.

“If I’m not home and in bed in the next ten minutes, I’m going to get violent.” He groused, bristling when the boys just laughed. “I’m not actually joking.”

“We know, I called James. You can crash at my place tonight.” Slash said, stopping abruptly when some chick runs up to him and literally licks his face. “Uhh... I extend that invitation to all of you.” He could practically feel the waves of irritation Axl was radiating.

“Woah man, Axl looks like he’s about to rip her head off.” Steven commented, shaking his head. “It’s what you get when you’re dating a rockstar.”

Axl doesn’t comment, instead, he tried his best to forge a path towards the back door (and away from the noise)—and get the fuck outta there. Luckily, James was already waiting outside, eyebrows raised at Axl’s haggard appearance.

“I’m taking it you’re not liking fame?”

“Fucking... man... I—” He was barely making sense, words slurring from exhaustion. “Bed.”

“I see.” He held the door open for them, managing to contain his laughter by some miracle. They all got inside before the reporters realized their prey was making an escape, but clearly not fast enough since at least three of them somehow got out front in time.

“What’s the name of your band? Do you have an album coming out?”

“Slash, does this mean you’re splitting with Myles?”

“Axl, Axl did you write the songs? Will you do an interview?”

Slash put the window up, still somehow smiling amicably, “goodnight, we’ll talk more about it later.”

“Hey, what is the name of our band?”

“The fantastic five!” Steven suggested sleepily, grinning at the looks of horror on the men’s faces. “Come on, it’s cool.”

“No. It’s not.” Izzy intoned.

“Whatever hippie, bet you’ll name it something like ‘Free Love’ or something.”

“That’s actually not so bad...”

Axl snorted, burying himself in Slash’s arms. _Yess, home_. “Fuck no.”

“Something with guns, because we’re manly and tough.” Duff teased, he was met with thoughtful silence. “Guys... I’m joking, that was a joke.”

“Guns N’ Roses.” Axl chirped, grinning wildly, “Because we’re in touch with our feminine sides.” Even James was laughing at that, the redhead felt a bit miffed. _It wasn’t that bad._

“Sure it’s not because your last name is Rose?” Slash said, laughing when Axl splutters in outrage.

Duff was quiet for a while, then finally he spoke “Guns N’ Roses sounds good.”

“I was about to say that.” Izzy murmured, “Let’s just never speak of the reasoning behind the name.”

“Deal.” They replied in unison, Axl even went as far as crossing his heart.

“So, does this mean you’re staying with us Slash?” The vocalist whispered, voice a bit hoarse from all the screaming. “For good?”

“Yeah. Funny story, I never had a _band_ , Myles and the Conspirators were just featured on my last album.” He snorted, “the name stuck I guess. He’s all but ready to kick my ass if I don’t join. Said we had something great up there.”

“Yeah...” Izzy trailed off, words failing him for a second. “We’re yeah...” He never imagined it would be like this, finally, after all these years of trying.

“We’re fucking _GUNS N’ ROSES_!” Steven shouted, just trying it out. It fit, it fit oh so well.

“And we’re here to rock your world!” Axl added, suddenly he wasn’t all that sleepy any more. The car explodes into various screams and whoops, and James is up front rolling his eyes to high heaven.

“Well, you are a noisy bunch aren’t you?”

Slash grinned, “The loudest! The proudest! The—”

“Cloudest?” Duff interjected, beaming, only to be laughed at. “What? He needed help.”

“Do we even have enough shit for an album?” Izzy and Axl shared a look.

“We have enough material for 20 albums.” Axl blushed, “what can I say? We were angsty teens.”

“I liked the jungle one.” Steven hummed along, a bit off key. “It’s my favorite.”

“Yeah, it’s mine too.” Axl replied distractedly, he’s too busy staring outside, remembering how scared he was of this city. How he hurried home daily because being out after nightfall was risky business, how the streets seemed cold, _strange_ and unfriendly _. How did that song go?_

_People are strange, when you’re a stranger;_

_Faces look ugly when you’re alone._

_Women seem wicked, when you’re unwanted._

_Streets are uneven when you’re down._

But now, it all seemed so _tame_ , the lights warm and welcoming—they were gonna make this city theirs, maybe someday the world. He wasn’t afraid anymore, the city welcomed him, and he was one of its own.

“Aren’t you glad you took that adventure I offered?” Slash whispered, kissing his cheek gently.

He chuckled, tugging at Slash’s curls “When are you gonna tell me what the fucking smiley means?”

Slash sighed theatrically, “It’s a fucking guy in a top hat Axl, I thought it was pretty _easy_ to pick up.”

“So... it’s _you_?”

“Yup.” He replied, popping the p.

“All this time?”

“All this time.” He was giggling uncontrollably now, “Oh God, the look on your face.”

“James, is it ok if I shove Slash out into oncoming traffic?”

“Fine by me.” James said, meeting Axl’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “As long as there’s no blood on my seat.”

“Deal.”

Slash squawked in outrage, waking Steven from his doze in the process; Izzy was watching, entertained, as (tiny) Axl tried to manhandle Slash and somehow shove him out of the moving car. Duff snuggled closer to Izzy, somehow miraculously able to sleep through this Din. “I will beat you to _death_!”

The drive to the manor continued in this manner, Axl sleepily fighting with a laughing Slash while Izzy sleepily made out with Steven (no one noticed of course—except James who just shook his head and looked away). He was exhausted, hungry, and so sick of Slash’s shit, plus he had left his paycheck at Mich’s and God, he didn’t even know what he was gonna _do_ with this new found popularity.

But it was all fine by him, because he got his adventure, he got his gypsy back, his best bud, new friends (that kept losing drumsticks), and he got this amazing boyfriend (who was currently pissing him off—but he loved him anyway)—his life today was the polar opposite of what it had been back then and he was set on working with it.

“It’s fine.” He whispered, squeezing Slash’s hand. “It’s all fucking fine, cause we’re gonna rule the world.”

* * *

 

**Epilogue:**

It had been a hectic year, but they finally managed to get what they’d been working for. A tour, their very own, he could hardly believe it.

Axl had returned for Amy (and for Sharon’s funeral), and gotten her outta that hellhole, ignoring the screams and outraged shouts of Stephen ( Slash was there too, staring him down, and the old man knew better than to attempt anything). What Axl really longed to do was get him thrown in jail for the rest of his life but Amy was still a _bit_ attached.

They were three shows in and he was still in awe every time he walks out unto a stage and sees the tens of thousands of people waiting to greet them with ecstatic screams, shouts, whistles and whatever form of noise they could make.

Tour life suited Axl: being in constant motion, the new cities, new people, new food, new places for him and Slash to make love (he’d taken to calling it that now) and having the people dearest to him close all the time—it was all he had imagined and more. The tour bus, for one, had all they needed: bunks, records, their gear (obviously), TV, video games (mostly for Duff and Steve), liquor, books (the boys all took to teasing Axl when he would force them to stop at bookstores to replenish his stock).

“If I trip over one more book, I’m tossing it out the window!” Duff would grouse, dangling the offending piece of literature before Axl.

“Be prepared to toss yourself out after it too.” He would snatch it from the bassist’s grasp and curl protectively around it. “Not my fault you can’t read.”

“I can read the back of a ramen packet and that’s all I need.”

Currently, they were heading to Orlando and the boys were all excited about it—all except Axl and Izzy.

“Man, I can’t wait, the beaches, the hot chicks,” Duff crooned earning a sharp glance from Steven who was smashing away at the buttons on his controller. “Not hotter than you, babe.”

“Two words, Surfs up.” Slash added, braiding Axl’s hair while he read some damn horror book for the twelfth time. There were cheers from all round, Izzy huffed, cradling his acoustic guitar and staring out the window. He loved being on the road, moving about, Axl met his eyes and smiled.

“What’s the big deal about Florida?” Axl asked, the whole bus quieted. Puzzled he lowered his book, staring at them from Slash’s lap. “What?”

“You’ve never been?” Duff asked. “We can go to Disney world, man.”

“No, I’ve never been.” He shot back, mocking Duff’s tone of awe. “Disney is for kids and pedophiles.” But before the sentence is done, the bassist is before him and clutching his hand.

“You’ve gotta embrace the magic, Axl.” Tone serious for as long as he could manage, before he was cracking up—joined by Steven and Slash of course.

“Fuck off all of you.” He sat up, jostling Slash. The boys sucked in a breath at the sight of Axl’s freshly braided hair.

“It’s so pretty.” Steven exclaimed, tossing the controller somewhere. “Slash, do mine.”

Duff actually looked impressed, “You know what this needs?” He grabbed some roses they got at the last show (the fans had taken to throwing roses on the stage—the name Guns N’ Roses gave them the idea, Axl was thankful no one tried to throw guns) and walked over to the vocalist. He hummed as he worked, putting the fresh red flowers in Axl’s shiny red hair. “There.” All three men were staring at him adoringly, and suddenly Izzy was looking straight at him too, only he was grinning like mad.

Out of nowhere, the strains of _Move to California_ was heard and everyone’s gaze snapped to Izzy whose fingers were dancing over the guitar strings. Axl blushed so hard he started feeling a bit lightheaded, “Shut up!”

Izzy just strummed harder, singing a bit under his breath.

_“Made up my mind to make a new start,_

_Going to California with an aching in my heart_

_Someone told me there’s a girl out there_

_With love in her eyes, and flowers in her hair”_

They’re staring on at each other now, barely aware of anyone else, then Axl is leaning on Duff’s shoulder and laughing himself to literal tears. Izzy’s playing broke off suddenly; he leaned his forehead against the window and laughed like he hasn’t for a while. The others watched the exchange with puzzled smiles, before Steven finally speaks up.

“What was that about?”

“Oh,” The redhead is swiping at his teary cheeks, grin still fixed in place. “Oh, about a summer long ago, it’s silly.”

“Tell us!” Duff insisted, sliding into the seat opposite to them. “We wanna know.”

“It’s a long story, and probably very boring.” Izzy mumbled, lowering his guitar and coming over to join the group. Slash fixed him with an unconvinced stare.

“Well, it’s a long drive, and we’ve got nothing to do.” The drummer pointed out, snuggling up against the gypsy’s side, Izzy smiled and allowed him to get comfortable.

Axl glanced around at the faces staring expectantly up at him—even Izzy was curious at this point, wanting to hear how he’d tell the story. His lashes fluttered as loose petals rained down on him when he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you idiots serious? My life is _boring_.”

“Liar.” Izzy accused, laughing when blue-green eyes narrowed at him. “Go on, I wanna hear this.”

“So do I.” Slash added, “I only got a portion of the story.”

“We want all the dirty bits too.” Duff added, “Can you imagine how horny young Axl was?” Izzy chuckled, head lolling against Duff’s shoulder.

“And still is?” Slash murmured from his side.

Axl spluttered, face flushing “I was innocent, Izzy corrupted me.”

“Sure was fun though.” Duff gasped and smacked Izzy’s thigh.

“And we wanna hear _all_ about it.” Steven concluded, smirking up at Axl. The redhead glanced at everyone, they nodded, sighing he slumped against Slash’s heat.

“Fine... Fine but remember you asked for it.” The boys cheered, settling in for the ride. “And I’m not telling it alone, so don’t thing you’re getting away Jeff.”

Izzy snorted, “Fair enough. Where do we start?”

“The beginning.” Duff said, disappearing for some liquor and returning with a sly grin. “When you just met.”

The redhead swiped a bottle of vodka and took a long sip to calm his fluttering nerves. “Ok, ok.” Izzy’s grey eyes were on him, curious and questing, alive with that strange energy of his. “We met... we first met at church, there was a playground and I was running about one day.”

“Awww, I can tell this is gonna be cute.” Steven cooed, the men all erupted into giggles at this.

“Interrupt me, and I stop.” Axl threatened, “Anyway. I’m outside, pretending to be a plane or whatever— _shut_ _up_ , I was like seven—”

“—six.” Izzy corrected quietly, lighting a cigar.

Axl sighed, kicking the man under the table. “Yeah, Yeah, six. Now I’m running around like mad and bam! I run straight into this skinny little brunette with messy hair and eyes too big for his face.”

They were all laughing again, glancing over at Izzy who was smirking at Axl, waiting for the rest of it and knowing exactly what was to come.

“I fall flat on my ass, got my good pants all dirty,” Axl said, settling into storytelling mode, eyes alight with excitement. “He’s just standing there, skinny little arms lost in his jacket, staring me down—shit he had the strangest eyes ever, I lost track of apologizing, looking into those eyes. And I don’t know if yer gonna believe this, but he looks straight at me and says—”

They were all leaning forward now, barely breathing, Axl looked into Izzy’s eyes and smiled. “He looks at me and says, ‘ _We match, so now you’re mine’_.”

 -fin-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clears throat dramatically* We made it fam!  
> I just wanna thank you for reading this far and for leaving all these rad comments and kudos and all that jazz.  
> I wanna thank all the people that were reading it from the first chapter, :) you know yourselves, this is me giving you a shout out. It was so much fun getting to talk to you all.  
> This whole thing took long to write, at one point I wasn't even sure what I was writing about anymore (which is why it took so long to complete-- sorry)  
> I wanna throw several thanks at Sarah who is a total badass (and i would have tagged your account if i knew how to use these technologies, but I dont-- my bad man), my angel of Mindfuck who's stuff inspired me to continue with this. And for allowing me to use Sarah in this, seriously, she's the best and I love her and I love you :)  
> *clears throat needlessly again*  
> So about part 2, it's pretty obvious there has to be a part 2 (and three) , We finally get to Axl x Izzy (what's the ship name for that Azzy? Ixl?) and I have the whole thing plotted already so it shouldn't be that hard to write (*chuckles nervously* right?)  
> So this is long, and we finally figured out Slash's smiley, and Izzy's motivation for being a little dick.  
> This A/N was essentially pointless, I just wanted to say "Hey, Guys thanks" but it got outta control. So, come say Hi on Tumblr (mrs-dark-knight) and give me prompts :D and fangirl with me about our boys. (I'm always down for that, seriously, I could talk endlessly about these 5)  
> Bye Bye.


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